


Bottoms Up

by mnwood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean, Bisexuality, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Crack, Domestic, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Partying, Resolved Sexual Tension, Violent Sex, Wedding Planning, Weddings, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/pseuds/mnwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam could’ve kissed them both when he got to the bunker one day to find a string of clothing (his heart nearly burst with hope when he saw the abandoned flannel and trench coat) leading to a very naked pile of limbs tangled on the couch. Just kidding. Of course it wasn’t the couch. Sam always imagined it as the couch because the fact that he actually found them on the dining room table had tainted the happiness of the memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fucking Idiots

**Author's Note:**

> ***THIS IS NOW COMPLETE.***
> 
> **HUGE shout-out to Jordan for the amazing artwork of Dean and Cas. Find her on tumblr at [ursulastanhope](http://ursulastanhope.tumblr.com/) and on deviantart at [captain-blackclaw.deviantart.com](http://captain-blackclaw.deviantart.com/).**
> 
> *The timeline starts in season 9, but it barely touches on plot points, and the Mark of Cain is not mentioned at all.  
> *Loosely inspired by [this post.](http://huuuuughdancy.tumblr.com/post/78883262224/what-cas-says-to-dean-when-they-argue-about-who)  
> *If you came for violent sex because of the tag, understand that it's not explicit.  
> *POV changes a lot in this, so be prepared for that.  
> *I'm just going to tell you now that Sam doesn't have a blissfully happy ending, so if you came here for Sam/Gabriel then I'm sorry.

Sam actually couldn’t take it anymore. He had reached the end of his rope quite a while ago, but he had held on for dear life for the sake of being a good brother and a good friend.

But enough was enough. 

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” Sam was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but he hoped that he could embarrass his brother enough to make him stop whatever he was doing.

“Uh, putting a white board on the fridge, what does it look like I’m doing?”

“Like…for groceries or something?” Sam didn’t expect Dean to believe the question was genuine, considering they only bought “groceries” when they ran out of alcohol and pie.

“No. Would you just—ignore it, OK?” Dean was getting uncomfortable. Good.

“I just want to know what it’s for.”

Dean rolled his eyes, turned back to the fridge and started writing something on the white board.

“Good afternoon, Sam.”

Sam jumped more than usual, if only because Cas had appeared about two inches behind him. “Geez, Cas. Hey. Do you know what Dean is doing to the fridge?”

Cas walked over to Dean, peered over his shoulder, then turned to Sam and said, “Dean is making a tally of which one of us was last penetrated.”

“Cas, Jesus Christ—” Sam heard Dean exclaim before he booked it out of there.

 

* * *

 

Sam was happy for Dean and Cas. Of course he was happy for them. Ecstatic. It was fantastic, really. Sam had lived (vicariously) through nearly six solid years of constipated, angry, painfully unresolved sexual tension, and often even _he_ found himself sexually frustrated after spending too long in a room with the oblivious idiots. Sam could’ve kissed them both when he got to the bunker one day to find a string of clothing (his heart nearly burst with hope when he saw the abandoned flannel and trench coat) leading to a very naked pile of limbs tangled on the couch. Just kidding. Of course it wasn’t the couch. Sam always imagined it as the couch because the fact that he actually found them on the dining room table had tainted the happiness of the memory.

“Congratulations, guys,” Sam had said to announce his presence, smirking and averting his eyes.

“Mmm,” Dean had grunted. It seemed Cas had worn him completely the fuck out.

“My apologies, Sam,” Cas said before disappearing with Dean and reappearing, clothed and without Dean, behind Sam.

Sam turned and said expectantly, “So?” (Later he’d consider being embarrassed for acting like a gossipy schoolgirl, but he’d quickly dismiss that thought as ridiculous because damn it, he was allowed to be excited and childish about Cas and Dean finally doing it. He deserved this.)

Cas smiled that rare, sheepish grin, shrugged and answered, “Dean and I had intercourse.” 

“Yeah, I gathered that much. Was this…the first time?” 

“With Dean? Yes.” 

When Sam realized that Cas was only going to offer the briefest of explanations (which technically he should’ve appreciated the lack of details), he said, “OK, Cas, spill. Seriously. Tell me what happened.”

Cas looked confused for a moment before saying, “Dean called me, so I came here, and he just wanted to talk— _needed_ to talk. But…he made me angry. I may have broken a few of his bones before he…initiated a kiss. A bloody kiss—until I cleaned him up. You came back a few hours later.”

“A few _hours_? Were you…?” He couldn’t say it. 

“Dean and I collectively reached climax five times.”

Sam nearly choked then briefly wondered who got robbed of an orgasm. “Wait, what made you angry, Cas?”

Wrong question. Cas looked furious. “Typical Dean. ‘I’m not good enough, I can’t do anything right, nobody needs me anymore, I poison everything I touch.’” (Sam would have laughed at the eerily accurate impression if it weren’t so sad.) “I snapped.”

“Well, what happens next? Did you and Dean talk about—”

“I don’t know. He was too…expended to talk. I shall discuss it with him when he wakes up.” 

“What do _you_ want, Cas?”

Sam almost retracted the question when Cas’ eyes hit the floor. But then, “I love your brother, and I imagine I always will. I will take as much of Dean as he is willing to give.”

Sam gave Cas a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, said, “In any case, it’s about damn time,” and that was it. 

(When Dean woke up hours later, Sam’s attempt at a congratulatory gesture was stopped by an abrupt “shut up,” a specific finger, and a tug on Cas’ wrist to pull him out of the room.)

 

So yeah, that first day, Sam was pretty fucking happy. So happy. He tried to remember that happiness in the coming months, tried to remember that Cas and Dean together was better than Cas and Dean apart. He tried really hard.

At first, Sam would have to leave the bunker. All the time. Cas and Dean were making up six years’ worth of sex, and they seemed determined to catch up in a matter of weeks. They were loud, so loud that Sam could be in literally any part of the bunker—dungeon included—and still hear them. Hell, they could be outside in the Impala and he still heard them. They were clumsy and violent, and Sam was pretty sure they would have had to replace every piece of furniture and a few walls and a few lights and a few pipes and a few of Dean’s body parts if Cas didn’t clean everything up as a post-coital ritual. (He’s fairly certain he heard a gunshot one time, too.) They were unashamed, often forgetting that there were other people on earth and that sometimes Sam didn’t want to see Dean’s bare ass (with Cas’ face buried in it) on the kitchen counter at lunchtime. They were unstoppable: Sam would try to discuss a hunt with them, and inevitably they would end up with each other’s tongues down their throats before he could finish. He went on several hunts by himself in those first few weeks.

When they finally started to slow down if only just for a few minutes at a time (Sam saw Dean eat for the first time in a month), Sam thought things would get better and feel a little more normal.

He was wrong.

Something changed one day. Cas left for almost an entire 24 hours, which was much longer than usual. (Sam was positive that it was the longest Cas and Dean had gone without having sex in weeks. Fucking animals.) Dean sulked around the bunker like he was new there and had no idea what to do with himself. Sam tried not to say anything, but Dean’s mood started to become more annoying than the constant sex, and that was saying something.

“Something happen with you and Cas?” He tried to sound as caring as possible, he really did.

“It’s nothing.” 

“Dude. Just tell me.” 

“I really don’t think you wanna know, Sammy.” Dean looked him in the eye like he was challenging him to keep pressing.

“I don’t think I want to either, but I’d also surprisingly prefer your disgusting sex life over you moping around like a teenager.” 

“Fine. My _awesome_  sex life has hit a bump in the road. Cas and I got into an argument, and he left.” Dean shrugged like there was nothing he could do about it.

“So that’s it? You just let him leave, and now what? See who holds out longer?”

“He’ll be back soon. We’ll get over it.”

“Get over what exactly?” Sam could tell that Dean didn’t want to say it, but he wasn’t letting him out of this one. They were going to be uncomfortable together.

Dean sighed. “Cas and I both prefer the same position.”

Sam stopped himself from laughing. “You’re realizing this _now_? After having sex like 200 times a day?”

“We’ve been…working through it.” Dean smirked. “Very thoroughly. But, uh, he said I was being selfish the past few days, so yeah. We’re just taking a break.”

“Why don’t you just come up with a system? You know, some sort of record to keep track of who bottomed last?”

Dean looked offended. “How did you know—”

“Dude. Really? I’m not an idiot.”

Dean rolled his eyes and left the room.

 

Sam soon regretted his suggestion.

When Cas came back, they decided to try rock, paper, scissors. Sam estimated that it took about three hours to teach Cas how to play. ("I don't understand. A piece of paper is not capable of affecting a rock in any way. And there are plenty of other ways to destroy a pair of scissors that are much less barbaric than smashing them with a rock. Why would you want to destroy scissors in the first place? They are an extremely useful tool. Why does cutting the paper harm it? What is so harmful about creating two sheets of paper out of one? I would prefer we play with real objects. Our hands do not mimic the shapes realistically enough.")

Somehow, by some miracle, Sam managed to get Cas alone long enough to tell him that Dean always used scissors. It was hilarious for a while to see Dean stomping around like a kid whose favorite toy had been taken from him and didn’t understand why. Eventually, however, Dean stopped putting out, and he and Cas both looked like grumpy children until they came up with a new solution.

 

They tried flipping a coin, which seemed fair enough until Dean accused Cas of controlling which way the coin landed. Cas denied it, but even Sam became suspicious after another week of sexually frustrated Dean. Dean bought a weighted coin then, and it took Cas three days to figure it out. Of course, he had to admit that he had been cheating in order to call Dean out for cheating. They broke Dean’s headboard and knocked several of Dean’s mounted guns off the wall in his room over that argument.

 

Sam’s favorite attempt was when Dean tried to reason with Cas about wrestling for it.

“Dean, you know you cannot win a wrestling match with me.”

“I know, man, but can’t you like, turn off your mojo?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

They didn’t know Sam was around the corner eavesdropping, so Sam almost vomited when he heard Dean say, “God, you’re so cute when you’re confused, dude.”

Sam could practically _hear_ Cas blush. “Thank you, Dean, but please don’t distract me. Again.”

“I’m sorry, I still just can’t get over that I’m allowed to say that to you now.” Sam tried to drown out the sound of Dean’s mouth on Cas’ skin in between words. “I hope I never get over it. I hope it feels new and scary every time, like a good hunt.” 

“Dean.” Cas’ voice was firm enough for Sam to straighten up from a room away. 

“Right. Um, your grace—can’t you put it on hold and just have human strength for a while?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Sure it is. Clark Kent’s able to do that. You know, turn off his extra juice and be human.”

“I have no idea who Clark Kent is or why he has extra juice,” (air quotes, Sam’s sure), “but what you are asking is impossible. I am an angel. Just because I occupy a human vessel does not mean I can feign human strength.”

“Fine, then. I’ll just have to cheat.”

Sam heard Dean lunge and actively stopped listening after that.

 

There was the time _Sam_ was the one embarrassed for once. Cas and Dean had hit a wall again (figuratively—they hit plenty of walls literally) with trying to negotiate, so Sam stepped in.

“Why don’t you guys bargain with each other?” he asked one morning when they were all sitting in the dining room.

It had been a few months at this point, and Cas and Dean had managed to stop fornicating long enough to actually get back to hunting and for Cas to get back to his army or whatever he called the group of angels that bowed at his feet. The three of them could be in the same room again without Sam having to leave or close his eyes every few minutes. Dean was actually regaining some pride and discretion and was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable talking about sex with his brother. But Sam could tell he needed advice and was willing to take it from anybody today.

“Do you mean we should offer each other services in exchange for penetration?” Cas returned.

“Yeah, you know, like blow jobs and stuff.” Sam had long gotten past the awkwardness of discussing these things openly, which is why he accidentally said, “When Gabriel and I were—” he cut himself off when both Dean’s and Cas’ heads whipped around in shocked confusion.

“You better finish that sentence,” Dean said sternly.

“Um. I, uh, may have had a thing with Gabriel for a while.” 

“What?” In unison of course.

“ _Gabriel_? As in made-you-watch-me-die-over-and-over, played-with-us-like-toys, lied-for-years Gabriel?” Dean asked.

“Well when you put it that way it sounds bad.”

“You think?”

(Sam really couldn’t take the judgment from the guy sleeping with the angel who betrayed them and ruined their lives for the better part of a year and fucked up Sam’s head and indirectly sent Dean to purgatory. Forgiving the angels in their lives was something the Winchesters were good at, damn it.)

“We’re all screwed up, Dean. And you know me, I have a thing for monsters. So yeah, he showed me attention and I took it.”

“What were you going to say before, Sam?” Cas cut in before Dean could turn the conversation into a fight. 

Sam sighed. “Gabe and I had the same problem as you guys—well, actually, we had the exact opposite problem, but you get the point. We would settle it by offering sexual favors back and forth until someone came up with the most vile or hottest thing. The favors were usually never followed through on, but it was the bargaining back and forth that decided who was more determined to come out on top.” He smiled at his own joke, taken back to a time when smiling came more naturally to him despite the Apocalypse and Lucifer and everything.

“Wow,” was all Dean could say. 

But Sam knew Cas and Dean listened to him, because they often kept him up at night as they got progressively more excited and therefore louder talking about things they could do to each other. It was the most effective tool to date, but it was tough on Sam’s poor ears.

One time he overheard Cas say something about wing support and using his feathers as extra hands to which Dean replied, “That’s _possible_? You fucking tease, how have you never mentioned that before?” Sam learned to sleep through the sound of wind rushing through Dean’s bedroom, the sound of them doing it upside down on the ceiling, the sound of Dean crying with laughter from being mercilessly tickled by feathers. His favorite was when he heard them both crash to the floor and Dean proclaim, “All right, that’s the last time we try mid-air.”  

Another time they were on a hunt, and Cas and Dean had insisted on having their own motel room. (Usually on hunts Cas didn’t go with them, or when he did they just did their business in the Impala, or, you know, anywhere else on earth considering Cas could take them anywhere in a matter of seconds, and Sam often wondered why the hell they didn’t take advantage of that more often. He and Gabriel went to secluded hot springs in South America, old abandoned sanctuaries in Europe, empty islands in the Philippines—the possibilities were endless, and yet his brother and Cas barely ventured outside the bunker.) The rooms shared a wall, so Sam gave up drowning out the gravelly voices and listened in instead.

“I’ll do that back and forth thing you like every day for a week if you’ll top for the same amount of time,” Dean started.

“I’ll grow a second tongue and be able to do your ‘back and forth thing’ without even having to switch back and forth.” 

Sam nearly choked. A blow job and rim job at the same time? Dear God.

“You know, you could send me to the past or future and I could come back with another version of myself and we could have a threesome,” Dean offered. (Sam was shocked at how steady Dean’s voice was considering _he_  was still balking at the sentence that just came out of Cas’ mouth.) “I was _very_ pretty in my early twenties, much smaller than I am now, very submissive.” 

Cas actually sounded like he was considering it. “Submissiveness is not a good argument when we are discussing who  _gets_ to be submissive, Dean.”

“Oh don’t even try that crap on me, Castiel.” (Apparently Dean had taken up using Cas’ full name when he was reprimanding him. Sam found it strangely endearing.) “Just because you prefer to be the bottom doesn’t mean you don’t love being in control. When was the last time you let me set the rhythm, huh?”

“You’re getting off topic, Dean. If we’re offering different versions of ourselves, what if I switched genders for you?”

(Sam thought that was the dream. Having sex with a dude or a chick depending on your mood and not having to cheat on the person you love to get it? Hell yeah.)

“That would just be weird. I fell—I’ve liked you the way you are for years now. It would be too…different.”

“Well then consider it the same for me with a past or future version of you. I am currently winning this barter I believe.”

“Hey Jude.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Sam didn’t understand how, but that settled the argument. Dean had won. It wasn’t solved until they were back at the bunker later, and Sam passed by Dean’s room and stopped in his tracks at the sound of Dean’s voice singing soothingly to Cas. Sam felt slightly offended thinking of all the times he had to put up with Dean’s terrible singing along with the radio in the car, only to find out now that Dean could actually sing. Really well. Well enough for Cas to choose it over a sexual favor. What the fuck.

  

Bartering eventually turned into guilt tripping, which caused a whole lot of other problems. Dean and Cas did enough my-life-is-the-worst-I-hate-myself banters anyway, so trying to get the most pity from the other for sexual purposes was just arbitrary and rather hopeless. Especially because when it was faked or exaggerated, they’d end up not speaking to each other for several hours, and when it was genuine, they’d end up shouting their love for the other (without saying the word of course) in an attempt to magic some self-esteem into them. They figured out pretty quickly that the only time this method actually turned into sex was their very first time. It was an isolated incident. Back to square one.

 

* * *

 

So yeah, Sam being happy for the angry bottoms had lasted about two days before it was replaced by annoyance. Now, after leaving the kitchen to let Cas and Dean hash out the white board situation, Sam realized how tired he was. It had been six months, and the couple was still violently stuck in the honeymoon phase, and Sam was collateral damage.

Dean had stopped talking to Sam about it after what Sam would later secretly label The Confession. Cas was gone for the night, which usually meant Sam and Dean would go on a hunt, but Dean had said he wasn’t feeling well, and it turned into a drinking-straight-from-the-bottle kind of night. (Which Dean hadn’t done in several months.) Sam joined him, if only to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.

“Does Cas like me?” Dean blurted when he was finally reaching a state of drunkenness.

“Is that a serious question? Am I supposed to answer this as if you guys haven’t been going at it like animals for the past few months?”

“Never mind. Forget it.”

“No, Dean, tell me what you mean. How could you possibly think Cas doesn’t like you?” Sam knew he could never get his brother to talk through his feelings sober, so he was going to force it out of him now even if it killed them both.

“I don’t know, man. I don’t deserve to be treated as well as he treats me. There has to be some other reason why he’s doing this.”

(Sam almost got distracted by the thought that Cas treats Dean well. Sure, Sam wasn’t always around to hear them, but from what he could tell, Cas and Dean were mean and nasty to each other more often than they were sweet and affectionate. But that’s just it, isn’t it? Cas knows that Dean won’t accept more love than he thinks he deserves, so Cas treats him in a way that will put them on equal footing in Dean’s mind. Just like on that first day, instead of telling Dean how good of a person he is, Cas opted to beat him up. Dean couldn’t handle being put on a pedestal, so Cas made sure to love him dirty—love him in a way that Dean actually prefers. And it seemed as if Dean was figuring that out.) 

“Are you looking for a reason to fuck this up?” Sam asked.

Dean stared at the bottle of whiskey and wouldn’t answer.

“Dean, I’ve never seen Cas like anybody as much as he likes you.” Sam wouldn’t say the real L word—that was up to Cas to reveal. “And vice versa. You guys are actually a perfect match, and I’ll never forgive you if you give it up.”

“But I don’t just _like_ Cas, Sammy,” Dean admitted very quietly. “I love him. I’m in love with him."

“Quit being ashamed of that. If you think the feeling isn’t mutual, you should probably talk to Cas.”

“What has he told you?”

“I’m not going to tell you that. He’s the only person who can tell you that.”

 

Dean dropped it after The Confession, and when Cas came back they became a lot more discreet. They stopped talking about sex with Sam. They stopped being so loud and explicit. Sam was sure Cas even flew them other places in the middle of sex to ensure privacy. So it had been quite nice for everyone until the white board incident.

That’s when Sam lost it. He listened to Cas and Dean arguing in the kitchen for the better part of 10 minutes before intervening.

“I told you I wanted to be more careful around Sam, Cas.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, but why would you put the white board in a communal room if you wanted to be private?”

“Because we don’t trust each other, and this way Sam can be the referee in case either of us cheats.”

“We are not playing a sport, and Sam is not qualified to be a referee.”

“God, Cas, it’s an expression. Just—all I’m asking is that you stop using the word ‘penetrate’ in front of my brother, all right?”

“Is that really the problem? You said we don’t trust each other. You don’t trust me?” Cas had gotten significantly quieter.

“No, Cas, of course I trust you, man. I just—”

“Then why can’t we keep this white board in our room?”

“ _Our_ room? You really think of it as…?”

“Your room—I meant to say your room of course.”

“Oh.” Sam didn’t have to see Dean to know he had dropped his eyes to the floor. “Do you really trust _me_?” 

There was a pause so pregnant that Sam was pretty sure he heard its water break. Time to step in.

“All right, you two sit your asses down. On opposite sides of the table,” Sam demanded when he re-entered the kitchen.

Dean and Cas were reluctant but obeyed.

“First of all, you two are so emotionally constipated that it’s actually giving me daily headaches. If you don’t have a conversation about what you mean to each other—and I mean, like, today—then I will separate you until you’re willing to talk. Don’t give me that look, Cas, I know how to bind you. Second of all, just because you both prefer it in the ass doesn’t mean you aren’t sexually compatible. Dean, if the look I’ve seen on your face in the past few months and the noises I’ve heard you make are anything to go by, then I’d say you’re having the best sex of your life. And Cas, you’ve smiled at least 10 times more often in the past six months than you did in my first six years of knowing you. So, get the hell over yourselves and learn how to take turns without cheating. Learn how to enjoy being on top. Learn to put each other’s needs over your own. And damn it, invest in some dildos and butt plugs for God’s sake. Third of all, I know you’ve forgotten this lately, but there’s more to life than sex. There’s more to _relationships_  than sex. So I’m calling a nice restaurant nearby, and you love birds are going to go there on a real, grown-up date, and Cas is going to eat human food, and Dean’s going to pay, and you’re going to say cute things to each other like you do when you think I can’t hear you, and you’re not leaving until you have an honest-to-God conversation about your relationship. No, shut up, no arguments. Go take a shower, Dean—no, Cas, you’re not going with him. I know for a fact you don’t need showers. You’re coming with me to put on some clothes that actually fit you. And Dean, I swear to God if you come out of your room in flannel I’m going to punch you in the face.” (Cas tried to mumble something about liking Dean’s flannel, but Sam wasn’t having it.) “ _Nice_ restaurant. I know neither of you have ever been to one, but you can at least look the part. Now go.”

 

* * *

 

Sam would’ve been proud of himself if he wasn’t too busy kicking himself for not helping them sooner. Cas and Dean became nauseatingly domestic after their date. They were happier, sweeter, not so desperate to attack each other physically and verbally anymore. They were capable of being in public without tearing each other’s clothes off, and they even agreed on things a lot of times. Sam didn’t know how they resolved their situation, but they seemed to spend a lot less time arguing over positions. Thank God.

They took each other on real dates whenever they had some down time from hunting. Sam smiled like an idiot when they entered the kitchen hand-in-hand one day both wearing shorts and T-shirts.

“Cas, how on earth did you convince Dean to put on shorts?”

“I can be very persuasive,” Cas answered with a smile as he grabbed the back of Dean’s neck and yanked his head down to his shoulder.

“We’re going on a picnic,” Dean announced with a childish grin. “I haven’t been on a picnic since—“

“Fourth of July, 1999,” Sam interrupted. “That was one of my favorites.”

“Oh man, Sammy, you need to come with us. We should’ve told you sooner.”

“No, you guys haven’t gotten much alone time lately. Go ahead. I’ve got some stuff to catch up on here anyway.” Sam was definitely not going to third wheel it when the couple was in one of their cutesy-touchy moods.

For another date, Sam was virtually kicked out of the bunker after Dean slaved away in the kitchen for hours to put together a homemade meal for the angel. (The only food Cas really enjoyed was red meat, and he could put away quite a lot of it, so Dean made enough steak and cheeseburgers to feed a small town of people.) Cas wasn’t allowed to show up until the food was ready, seeing as it was a surprise. Sam may have stayed longer than he was supposed to if only to see the look of pure lust on Cas’ face when he saw the food. He looked ravenous, but instead of immediately eating, he took his time lifting the cook onto the table and kissing him. Sam should have looked away, but it was actually fascinating how perfectly Cas fit between Dean’s arms and legs and how natural it looked for him to reach his face up to meet Dean’s.

 

Cas picked up baking in the free time created by their slower sex lives, and he was determined to make Dean every type of pie imaginable. Accidentally walking in on Cas feeding Dean pie (who made obscene noises as he ate) was more uncomfortable than walking in on them having sex, that’s how intimate it was. Occasionally the three of them had movie nights that Cas would bake for, and Dean would inevitably eat too much, and Sam would try not to notice Cas rubbing Dean’s stomach while he held him in his lap on the couch. All the awkwardness was worth it, however, the day Sam found Dean lying on his back actually sweating and murmuring “come on, come on, you fatass,” while he tried his hardest to button a pair of jeans that had gotten too tight. Cas baked less often after that and also bought Dean pants a size up without being asked. (Sam didn’t have to talk to Cas about it to know that the angel enjoyed fattening Dean up and was reluctant to stop. It was a sign of domesticity and comfort, an entirely normal human thing that none of them had ever gotten the chance to experience. Too bad Dean couldn’t see it that way.)

 

Cas started calling Dean “babe” and Dean started calling Cas “sweetheart.” And not even in playful voices, either. This was regular conversation, a gruff shout of “sweetheart, can you come here?” reverberating around the bunker, a deep “taste this cupcake, babe” in the kitchen. On a hunt one time they captured a demon for information, and Dean let a “sweetheart” slip in front of him.

“Excuse me?” the demon had mocked.

“I said, ‘Can you get me some holy water, sweetheart?’” Dean deadpanned.

“Who you callin’ sweetheart?”

“That would be me. It is a pet name, a sign of affection as indicated by the combination of the inherently loving words ‘sweet’ and ‘heart.’”

(Sam almost left the room he was laughing so hard.)

“Thank you, sweetie,” Dean had said cheerily as he took the holy water from Cas.

“You’re welcome, babe.”

The demon’s jaw nearly hit the floor when Cas and Dean shared a short kiss right there in front of him. Dean poured the holy water directly into his mouth.

(The pet names evolved to include “handsome,” “gorgeous,” “dollface,” and eventually “dumbass,” “fatass,” “stupid face.” There was no limit to the lengths they would go to demonstrate their affection verbally.)

 

Dean’s room really did become “their” room, and for some reason that didn’t freak either of them out. Sam thought for sure Dean would panic when Cas walked into the kitchen one morning wearing his robe, but it was like he didn’t even notice.

“Cas, why are you wearing that?” Sam had asked.

Cas smiled. “I actually required sleep last night. Your brother literally sucked my grace dry, and I was too tired to even find my clothing this morning.” 

Dean chuckled as he came up behind Cas and landed light kisses on his neck. “It’s my new mission in life, stealing Cas’ mojo.”

But Sam thought things were _really_ getting serious when Dean nearly crawled out of his room one morning wrapped up in Cas’ trench coat (and seemingly nothing else). 

“Don’t even ask,” Dean had mumbled before collapsing into the bathroom. 

If Sam thought _that_  was traumatizing, it was quickly overshadowed by the time Dean spent half a day walking around shirtless with Cas’ tie tight around his neck. Based on the look on Cas’ face, Sam was fairly certain he was playing the dom that day. That, and the fact that Dean followed him around like a puppy, was completely silent, and stood totally still whenever Cas stopped to tighten the tie, bite his collarbone, or grab and pinch his love handles. (After that, Sam pretended not to notice the growing collection of ropes and handcuffs in their room, and also the bruises Dean often sported on his neck…and arms…and chest…and stomach.)

 

Sam was happy for them. He really, really was. _So_ happy for the fucking idiots.

 


	2. Get Out

It had been a year. An entire _year_ , and Dean was _just now_  bringing this up. Sam thought for sure they’d never actually have this conversation. 

“Dude, did it not freak you out when Cas and I first got together?” 

“Uh, no? It was kind of expected. I spent six years freaking out that you _hadn't_ gotten together.”

“Oh. Really? How did you know we…?” 

“I wish I had footage to show you of just how ridiculous you and him acted around each other. Like, seriously. It was gross.”

“But…didn’t you think I was straight? Why would you think I liked a guy?”

Sam smiled affectionately at his poor brother. His brother, who was trying to come out to him after having sex with a guy for a year. “Dean, I know you better than anybody. I probably know you better than you know yourself, actually. Cas isn’t the first guy you’ve been attracted to.” 

Dean looked like he might protest for a minute before saying, “OK, that’s true, but I never…”

“Cas was your first?” Sam finished for him.

“Yeah. I would’ve been embarrassed if I hadn’t been so busy being caught up in Cas.”

“Which is why you’re embarrassed now that things have slowed down?”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“OK, so what is it? You just wanted to let me know you’re into dudes?”

“You’re seriously not weirded out by that?”

“Were _you_ weirded out when you found out about me and Gabe?”

“I mean, no, I guess not. Surprised, but not weirded out. But—how long have you known about me?”

“I don’t know, man, you checked out enough guys in bars for me to notice right when we first started hunting together. I knew you pretended like that part of yourself didn’t exist, so I didn’t push it.”

Dean just nodded, but he looked a little downcast.

“Dean. You know I don’t think you’re gay, right?”

“Well aren’t I? I’m technically in a relationship with a man.”

 “Wait, are you serious? Do you think  _I'm_ gay for having sex with Gabriel?” 

“I—well, no, but—”

“You _do_ know about bisexuality, don’t you?”

“Bi—what?” 

“Bisexuality. It means you’re attracted to men and women. You’re allowed to be attracted to both.”

Dean scrunched his face. “I don’t like that.”

“What?”

“It seems too…easy. I’ve struggled with this for years, and now you’re telling me there’s a word for it? Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I could’ve helped you…”

“No, don’t apologize. I’m good now. I just wanted to…”

“Explain why you’ve been sucking on a man’s face for the past year?”

“Yeah, glad we had this talk.”

Dean threw an empty beer can at Sam’s head as he left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't said in the chapter, but my headcanon is that Sam is less bisexual and more of a "whatever happens happens" kind of guy.


	3. The Date

Dean was glad Sam had finally snapped. He and Cas were great, yeah, but they couldn’t quite figure out how to navigate a relationship. They couldn’t even have sex without breaking something. (Luckily the only irreversible damage so far was when Dean accidentally ripped one of Cas’ feathers out during an orgasm. His eardrums nearly burst at the angel’s scream.) But tonight, on this date Sam orchestrated, they were going to figure it out no matter how many hours it took. Dean was determined. He spent longer in the shower than usual (which was impressive, considering Cas was usually there to distract him) and took nearly a quarter of an hour picking out an outfit. He settled on a white button-down with the top button undone, gray slacks, and his nicest suit jacket. Simple, still him—the way Cas liked. He trimmed his beard to the length Cas liked, too. (Yeah, Cas and Dean both loved scruff. They both had grown substantial beards. So what.) 

 

Once he was ready, Dean stared in the mirror for a solid 10 minutes trying to calm down. He succeeded in making himself more nervous. He just didn’t know what to expect, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. There were literally not two other people on earth less qualified to have a conversation about their feelings than he and Cas were.

He tried to think back on the day they first got together. It was unfortunately a fuzzy memory because he had been so lust-blown, and it had all seemed too surreal, and by the end of it he couldn’t even move—nonetheless think. When he kissed Cas, he definitely wasn’t thinking. He saw blue and he saw chapped lips and that was the last thing he remembered. There had been a brief moment during the kiss when Dean thought, “You should stop. This is wrong. You can’t be what Cas wants,” but at that precise moment Cas had healed his wounds, grabbed a handful of Dean’s shirt, pulled him forward and then shoved him back against a wall to get the angle he wanted to slip his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

And God, Dean couldn’t have stopped even if the thought had crossed his mind. Cas kissed like it was the last thing on earth he’d get to do. His lips and mouth and tongue were too big, too overwhelming. Dean just stood there and took it while Cas’ tongue thrust in and out of Dean’s mouth, licked over his teeth, circled his own tongue. They must’ve kissed for an hour before a single article of clothing came off.

Cas’ tongue was even more skilled in other places. He made Dean come three times before letting Dean return the favor.

“Cas,” Dean gasped. “Where…did you…learn this?” The effort it took just to form words was unbelievable. 

“I’ve had years to imagine this, Dean.” 

As far as Dean could remember, that was all they had said to each other until Dean woke up hours later and found himself alone. There was only one time that they had talked about it, and it was after two weeks of nothing but sex.

Dean showered by himself (for the first time in two weeks), put on boxers and a T-shirt, and walked back to his room to find Cas lying on his bed wearing the same thing. 

Dean slid himself under Cas’ arm and rested his head on Cas’ chest. Cas responded by wrapping both arms tightly around him and rubbing circles into Dean’s back.

“This is pleasant. We should do more of this,” Cas had said after a few minutes. 

“Mmm.”

“Would you like it if I stayed with you during the night while you sleep?”

“You don’t do that already?” Dean asked.

“I usually leave and check in on you every hour or so. Would you prefer this?”

“Absolutely.” Dean backed up his enthusiasm by burying his face further into Cas’ chest and snaking his arm under Cas’ back. “You’ll stay forever, right, Cas?” He was too tired to filter his thoughts apparently.

“If that is what you wish, that is what I will do.”

“Good. You’re as much my family as Sammy. I…I’m glad I have you now, Cas.”

“You’ve always had me, Dean.”

“No, I mean, like, I’m glad I’m _with_ you now.” He didn’t know how to make Cas understand.

“Do you mean sexually?”

“I mean everything. All of you.”

Dean fell asleep before Cas responded.

 

Of course he _wanted_ to talk to Cas. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him every minute of every day (which is coincidentally why they were so active). He wanted to shout it to the world that he finally had the one thing he had allowed himself to want since hell. Instead, they argued and hit each other and fucked each other in an attempt to do anything but talk about what they mean to each other. 

There were times Dean had it on the tip of his tongue and held himself back. Like when he woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of heavy breathing and found the angel fast asleep and curled in the fetal position under a pile of blankets. Or the time he was changing his clothes and Cas commented, “You have a very nice body, Dean. I greatly enjoy looking at it. It is nearly as attractive as your face, although in a less conventional way according to humans.”

The time Cas smacked his ass when they passed each other in the hallway.

The time Cas came home with a bag full of flannels and announced that Dean didn’t have enough of them, and it was a shame because they looked so good on him. 

The time Dean made a reference to Star Trek that Cas didn't understand, and hours later Dean found Cas watching The Original Series online.

The time Cas sneaked up behind Dean and snaked his hands under his shirt and worked them all over his stomach while muttering, “This is mine.” 

The time Dean had nightmares, so Cas cradled him in his wings until he fell back asleep (best night of sleep he had ever gotten).

The time Cas appeared in Dean’s bedroom unannounced wearing leather lingerie and said, “I believe this is for a woman, but I find it strangely arousing. Do you like it?” (Dean would’ve laughed if he weren’t so consumed by lust in that instant.)

The time Cas thought Dean was asleep and whispered the story of saving him from hell, of seeing his soul for the first time and feeling a love he had never experienced before, of knowing that no matter what else he would experience, no matter how long he lived, nothing could compare to Dean Winchester. 

The time Cas did this, and the time Cas did that, and all the times in between.

Dean could have said it a million times, and a million times in the six years before that.

 

When Dean finally made it downstairs and entered the dining room, Sam was standing in front of Cas, messing with the angel’s outfit. Dean was not prepared when Sam stepped away. 

He imagined he felt like he would have if he had ever gone to prom and seen his date for the first time. Cas was wearing a charcoal gray tie over a dark green button-down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, tucked into a slim-fitted pair of black slacks. His hair was strategically disheveled, and his beard had been cut to the most painful kissing length (Dean’s favorite, duh). Dean only ever saw Cas in his angel get-up or naked, so this was like seeing him for the first time. He stared long enough for Cas’ neck to redden.

“Well, I’m gonna…” Sam stammered before disappearing from the room. 

Dean wanted to cross the room and grab Cas, but he was locked in place. “You, um, you look gorgeous,” he finally managed to spit out.

The red reached Cas’ cheeks. “Thank you, Dean. You of course look stunning. As usual.”

Dean finally closed the distance between them, wrapped his arm around Cas’ waist (OK, let's be honest: ass) and yanked them together until their belt buckles clinked.

“Your wings look good like that, too,” Dean whispered. 

As a result of their closeness, Dean could see Cas’ wings at all times now. It was scary at first, but now it was just insanely hot. Cas had them tucked timidly behind his back for the date, folded up and relaxed.

“This is how they would be most of the time if…we didn’t use them so often,” Cas responded. 

They giggled. He and Cas were actually giggling. God, he hoped Sam was far, far away. “C’mon, let’s go to the car,” Dean said before leaning down to give Cas a chaste kiss.

“Wait.” Cas pulled Dean’s face back to his and offered a not-so-chaste kiss.

“No, dude, rules. We gotta have some self-control tonight.” It took Dean a solid 45 seconds just to get through the sentence in between kisses. They were actually hopeless.

They eventually made it to the Impala and sat in a comfortable silence, the only contact between them Cas’ hand scratching the hairs at the base of Dean’s neck.

When Dean opened Cas’ door at the steakhouse, he realized they had never actually been a couple in public without Sam and without being on a hunt.

Dean decided not to freak out about that and grasped Cas’ hand as they walked side-by-side up to the door.

“Oh, I know who you two are,” the hostess said with a giant grin as soon as they walked in.

“Uh…” was all Dean could think to say.

“Your brother called and said to give you the most private, romantic spot in the place. He also said to stop you if you try to leave within two hours and to pull you apart if you kiss for longer than five seconds. Normally we wouldn’t agree to such extreme requests, but he explained enough of the situation to make us sympathetic. So let’s play by the rules, all right, boys?” 

(Six months ago Dean would’ve done whatever possible to make sure he went home with that girl.)

“So I guess this is where we talk about our feelings,” Dean said reluctantly after they had sat down and ordered their food.

“I believe this will be good for us. Sam made a number of fair points.”

“Yeah…weirdly enough I think you’re right. So, um, what do you think, Cas? Are we just getting laid all the time or…?” 

“I want to be frank with you, Dean. I have not been honest, and it is time I stop withholding information.” Dean’s heart nearly busted out of his chest until Cas said, “I love you. I started to love you the moment I saw your soul in hell. I fell in love with you within weeks, probably when you refused to let me destroy that town on Halloween. I almost did something about it dozens of times over the course of our friendship, but I am not sorry I didn’t. The wait was perfect and worth it. I would spend an eternity with you in whatever capacity you wish. I love you.”

Dean couldn’t speak for a moment. When he found his voice, he said, “Me too. I mean, I—I love you. I love you, too.”

The first thing Dean did when they got home was throw away the white board.


	4. The Conversation

There were plenty of conversations Sam did not enjoy hearing, so he made a point to avoid eavesdropping on his brother and Cas.

But there were exceptions.

Dean and Cas had been together for almost two years when Sam heard “The Conversation.” Cas had lost his borrowed grace, been human for a while (Dean had lamented for two entire weeks at the loss of Cas’ wings), then got his original grace back when he restored heaven and returned all the angels. Dean had a patch of gray in his hair that he was unaware of because Cas always fixed it for him before he could see it. (One day Dean panicked because there was a gray spot in his beard, and Cas confessed to Sam that he could’ve fixed it if it wasn’t “so fucking attractive.” Sam can only assume that Cas convinced Dean of this too, because Dean soon shut up about the coloring and often absentmindedly stroked that portion of his facial hair.) For the most part, their lives had barely changed. They maybe hunted less often, and Sam was even in a serious relationship for a while, but the world had not come to a halt once Cas and Dean hooked up. 

But Sam, while standing outside Cas and Dean’s closed door and listening carefully, believed the world might actually be ending.

“It’s legal in half of America now. I don’t see why we shouldn’t,” Dean argued.

“It’s legal for human beings who pay their taxes and have social security numbers and who are not supernatural beings or outlaws several times over. We are not good candidates, Dean.”

“So what? I know some people. We could work it out, I promise.”

Sam could practically hear Cas’ silent sulking through the door.

“What is it, honey? You gotta talk to me.” Dean shifted on the bed, seemingly to move closer to Cas. 

“This is hardly a proposal, Dean.”

Another long pause. Sam held his breath.

“What, you want me to write it in the sky or something? Get down on one knee, offer you a diamond ring?”

“You know I don’t care for the extravagant or the traditional. But you also know that I have a propensity for romantic gestures, and this is far from romantic.” 

Dean sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” A kiss. “I’m not exactly asking—I just needed to see if you were up for the idea. And if you are, I’ll promise you a romantic proposal when you’re least expecting it.”

“I doubt you could surprise me considering—” 

“Not the point, babe. Are you, Castiel, interested in marrying me some day?”

Sam would, for the rest of his life, deny how hard his heart pounded against his ribcage when he heard those words come out of Dean’s mouth.

“Yes, of course, Dean Winchester. Why are we using our full names?”

Dean groaned exasperatedly. “C’mere.”

Sam stopped listening then.

  

Cas confronted Sam later that day, and it was only then that Sam remembered that Cas is an angel and can feel his presence through a door.

“You heard our conversation.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes. But—”

“Good. I need your help.”

“I—what?”

  

 

“Dude, what is _up_ with you today?” 

“What? Oh, nothing. I’ve had too much coffee this morning.” Lies. Sam was lying. He was a liar.

“Well don’t break the keys on your laptop. I could hear you typing from across the bunker,” Dean answered while he reached for the coffee pot. “How is there a full pot of coffee if you’ve had too much?”

“I don’t know. Cas must’ve made some more for you before he left. Why are you on my case, man?”

“Uh, ‘cause you’re as anxious as you were on your first date in high school.”

“I’m fine, seriously.” He was not fine. “There’s, um, a case about an hour from here. I figured we could check it out today.”

“Yeah? What is it?” 

“Sounds like vamps. A few people have disappeared near an old historical house that’s been locked up for a few years. I think there’s a family of vamps living in that house. It shouldn’t be too hard to sort out.”

“All right, let me just get ready and we can go in half an hour.” As he left the room, Dean said, “Cas, we’re checking out a case. I should be home by tomorrow.” (Cas had left a note for Dean saying he had business to tend to in heaven. Dean didn’t have to leave notes for Cas but casually prayed instead as if Cas was in the room, which, considering how closely connected Dean and Cas were, they _were_ pretty much always in the same room together even when they were worlds apart.)

Sam and Dean went straight to the house, not even bothering to stop at a motel first. They had gotten almost _too_ good at hunting, Sam thought as they easily broke into the mansion and killed six vampires in the front hallway without drawing any attention. 

They separated to cover more ground, but soon afterward Sam shouted Dean’s name as desperately as he could.

Dean sprinted his way toward his brother’s voice but came to a halt when he reached the main room.

The first thing he noticed was a particular angel sitting calmly and smugly at the head of a dining room table. The next thing he noticed was a display of candles around the room that smelled suspiciously like Dean’s favorite smell. The third thing he noticed was the food on the table, which was also his favorite (pie included). The fourth thing he noticed was that Sam was not in the room. 

“What’s—where’s Sam—I was—” he stuttered, thrown off by Cas’ smirk and, frankly, his presence.

“Have a seat, Dean.” 

Dean hesitantly pulled out the chair to the right of Cas and sat. 

“Dean, I need you to know that these past 22 months and 18 days have been better than anything I’ve ever experienced in my existence. Selfishly, I would relive the Apocalypse a thousand times over if it meant I got to rescue and fall in love with you every time. I know that superficially you hate to hear things like this because they make you uncomfortable, but I am ignoring that for the fact that deeper in your soul, you love and need to hear these confessions every so often. You are the most incredible human being or being in general I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. You are made up of poetic contradictions and inconsistencies that make it an adventure to spend each day with you. I don’t just love you, I love everything about you. I love it when you laugh at me for needing sleep sometimes. I love it when you close your eyes when you’re frustrated with me. I love it when you do my laundry and then smell it afterward when you think no one is looking. I love it when you make childish jokes that only you laugh at. I love it when you ruin the mood in an attempt to bottom when it’s not your turn. I love the way you fall apart for me and demonstrate your complete trust in me when I tie you up. I love the thrill you try to hide when I buy lingerie for you to wear. I love how your hair sticks up in the morning and how you can’t see through your wet eyelashes in the shower and how you carry yourself strong like a house and how you squirm when I pinch your excess fat and how you bury your face in my chest before you fall asleep and—”

“Castiel. Please,” Dean whispered. 

“Yes, I understand. Dean Winchester, will you spend the rest of your existence with me in holy matrimony?” Cas’ voice shook slightly as he held a ring out to Dean.

“I—of course. Of course, you fucking idiot.” Dean reached for the ring, but Cas stopped him in order to slip it onto Dean’s finger himself.

They kissed for so long that Dean didn’t even remember crawling into the angel’s lap. He felt Cas’ hands reach under the waistband of his jeans and land on his hips. Cas pressed his fingers into the skin painfully, his silent signal to make Dean stop.

“What?” Dean asked, frustrated and in pain.

“We have food to eat.”

Dean kissed Cas one more time before sliding back into his own chair. They ate blissfully, and they took their time once Cas told Dean that Sam had already driven back to the bunker and that the six vampires they killed were the only ones Cas had left alive for them. 

“I’m going to kill Sam for this,” Dean announced. 

“He was very helpful. I believe thanking him would be a more appropriate response.”

“Yeah, whatever. _I_ was supposed to be the one to propose. I hate you both.”

“I love you, too, Dean.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My headcanon for Dean's favorite smell is apple pumpkin - it's a Yankee candle.  
> Also Cas mentions buying lingerie for Dean, and I already mentioned in a previous chapter that Cas has worn lingerie. Basically they both really like lingerie, OK?


	5. Fuck It

_I don’t know what your intention was in kissing me, and I am not entirely certain how you feel about the subsequent sexual acts, but if you do not mind, I would like to continue a physical relationship with you. I believe that our bond crossed the normal boundaries of friendship (as I understand them) a few years ago, and I do not know if I am capable of returning to a—_

_I hope you do not regret kissing me because that was the single brightest moment of my existence, and I wish to kiss you again as many times as you’ll allow—_

_If you thought it was a mistake, then we can return to our previous arrangement, and I will be fine—_

_I know you dislike talking about your feelings, but I believe it would be wise to make an exception in this situation in order for us to figure out what this means_ _in rel—_

“Cas?”

Cas’ mind went blank at the sleepy call of his name. His head jerked up from where he was staring intently at the kitchen counter, and it was like he was seeing Dean for the first time. 

The man was rubbing sleep out of his eyes, standing straight and broad with his robe wrapped around him and his hair going in all directions. He was perfect. Perfect because this is what Dean Winchester looked like after making love with Castiel. Cas forgot every narrative he had come up with to tell him in exchange for promising to never let this blissed-out look leave Dean for long.

“Hey Dean. How was your afternoon?” Sam asked smugly. “I wanted to congratulate—”

“Shut up,” Dean interrupted before stepping toward Cas.

Cas opened his mouth but before he could connect brain to words, Dean had grabbed his wrist like it was completely normal and had led him back to his bedroom.

“When I woke up alone, I was worried you’d left for good,” Dean whispered against Cas’ mouth as he began pulling his trench coat off. 

“You must understand, Dean. There is close to nothing you could do to make me leave permanently.” Cas stood still to allow Dean to undress him. He wanted to prove how concrete and present he was.

“So…human contact, that’s cool with you?”

Cas nearly burst out of his vessel when Dean unexpectedly wrapped his hand around his cock.

“I am…not opposed…to…sexual…con…tact.” Oh fuck it—Cas pushed into Dean’s hand and elicited a small gasp out of the man.

When Cas took on a human vessel for the first time, he spent three days incapacitated by fleshly desires. He had no idea how to navigate genitalia or how to control it or how to ignore it. It was painful and frustrating and he spent a lot of time doing…experiments. It was strange trying to figure out what did and did not arouse him and how to utilize his hands to accommodate himself when he _was_  aroused. The more time he spent with Dean, the easier it became to imagine Dean in…interesting scenarios. All it took for him to satisfy his physical needs was a mental image of Dean Winchester, preferably naked. Nothing else would do the trick. He spent years learning about sex only so he could better imagine what it would be like to be with the hunter. Now that he was _actually_ with the hunter, his physical response was more intense than anything measurable. But the concept was the same as he imagined.

He came into this prepared.

Cas slapped Dean’s hand away and yanked their bodies together. He stripped his own pants and Dean’s boxers off and grabbed both of their dicks in his hand gently.

“This is everything I want,” he said before meeting Dean’s lips with his own. 

Cas’ hand didn’t stay where it was for long. Once there was only skin between them, Cas spun Dean around and pushed him face first onto the bed. He bent himself over the man and sloppily kissed his way down Dean’s back, ensuring that he marked every inch of Dean’s smooth skin with his saliva, taking extra time on the scattered patches of freckles.

Dean’s legs spread instinctively when Cas’ hands made their way to his ass and squeezed.

“Cas, what—”

Cas cut him off with his tongue. Dean went to bed hoarse that night. Cas wasn’t even a little bit sorry.

 

“Cas?” God, Cas would be perfectly content if those three fucking letters were the only thing sleepy Dean ever said. 

“I’m here, Dean.”

“Did you sleep?”

“No, I watched _you_ sleep.”

“How do you know how to cuddle if you don’t sleep?” Dean scooted back and curled closer to Cas’ body.

“I know a lot of things.” Cas wrapped his arm tighter around Dean’s stomach and tucked his hand between the bed and his side.

Dean let out a huff. "Yeah, I noticed, dude. Apparently you weren't as virginal as I thought."

Cas detected something...jealousy, maybe? in Dean's voice. "I assure you, Dean, that was my first time. As I said earlier, I have had plenty of time to exercise my imagination."

"You're serious?"

"Most of the time, I am, yes." Cas was sick of Dean's attitude, to be quite honest.

"How in the world...?"

"You're upset because I am better at this than you are."

Dean immediately flipped over to glare at Cas. "We'll see about that, asshole."

Cas tried not to smile and failed. Dean reached his arm out and Cas caught it, turned onto his back, and pulled Dean's full weight flush against his chest. Dean chuckled before kissing Cas' neck and then burying his face in his chest.

“Can we keep doing this?”

“Quite frankly, I am surprised that you enjoy the act of cuddling.”

“No, not that. I mean, I do, but no—I mean can we keep…having sex?”

“I was hoping you would want to,” Cas answered.

 “I’ve wanted to for a very long time.”

Fuck. Cas was glad Dean couldn't see the amount of affection in his eyes in that moment. “You don’t have to want to anymore,” he said into Dean’s hair before placing kisses into his hand. “You have me indefinitely.”

“Good. I like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Sorry for teasing you into thinking I was going to write an explicit sex scene. I'm a terrible person.  
> 2) For some reason I believe Cas loves the word fuck, hence why his internal monologue is full of it.


	6. Planning it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE THANK YOU TO JENNI FOR THE AMAZING ARTWORK FOR THIS CHAPTER. You can find her on tumblr and deviantart under the username cypii.
> 
> Warnings: Right near the top is a description of Cas inflicting pain on Dean during sex because Dean likes it. Don't worry, Cas would never do permanent damage, and he wouldn't do it at all if Dean wasn't into it. Also, towards the end is the bachelor party, so there's a lot of drinking.

Sam actually couldn’t believe how terrible Cas and Dean were at planning a wedding. Like literally the worst. During the first month, they wouldn’t even let Sam help at all. 

He sat back and watched as they argued for three days straight just simply on a date. The freaking date. They literally had zero responsibilities to anyone or anything and yet they’re arguing over the date.

Cas disappeared for two days after a big fight, and Dean might as well have had a literal black cloud over his head. 

“Oh my god, dude, it’s just a date. Literally pick a month and a weekend and stick to it. Is this really worth Cas not being here with you?”

Dean rolled his eyes and stomped out of the room.

But Cas walked into the kitchen with Dean in the morning, so he must’ve come back at some point in the night. Sam didn’t bother asking why Dean was limping and had a black eye and also had burn marks all over his neck. He hoped Cas would fix him sometime before the wedding at least. (The longest to date Cas had allowed an injury he inflicted upon Dean to last was four months. It was a bite mark on his collarbone that had required stitches, which, according to Dean, they did not worry about until after they had both finished. Dean claimed that it was more blood than they saw on most hunts once it was over and done with. Sam wondered how Dean got so lucky to find a partner that pushed the limits of pleasure and pain right up to the point he enjoyed most. And, also, could clean him right up immediately if necessary.)   

“Good morning, Sam,” Cas said roughly.

“Glad to have you back, Cas.”

“We’ve made a decision,” Dean announced.

“Yeah? What’d you decide?”

“Middle of March, on a Thursday,” Cas answered with finality. It was clear he was the one who won that argument.

“We figured it’s right between both of our birthdays, and it gives us almost a year to plan.”

“I think that’s great, guys. Have you started thinking about where you want to have the ceremony?” Sam regretted the question as soon as it came out of his mouth. He would’ve punched himself in the face if it were possible.

Dean turned to Cas with panic in his eyes before leaving the room. Cas stood still for half a moment before disappearing.

Well then.

 

Sam was not allowed to participate in conversations about the location of the wedding of the century, which meant he never spoke at all because it was all the morons ever talked about.

Sam would try to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace in the kitchen, and inevitably Cas and Dean would walk in with sleep in their eyes and sex in their hair and ruin everything. Or they’d be on the road and Sam would try to take a nap in the front seat but would be too anxious as Dean swerved all over the place while glaring at Cas through the rearview mirror. Or they’d try to have a movie night and whisper arguments back and forth at each other (which Sam had to stifle laughter at because it was utterly ridiculous watching how serious and frustrated they would get while Dean’s head was in Cas’ lap and their hands laced together) until Sam had to separate them by sitting between them, which only led to them arguing over or behind him. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he watched a movie start to finish and actually was able to pay attention to the entire thing. Or they would all be at a diner and Sam would bury his face in his hands as half the restaurant would shoot them suspicious looks as they fought with their mouths full. The plus side was that Sam got a few dates from pitying servers who felt the need to rescue the third wheel. The worst, though, was when they all went on hunts together and Dean and Cas would actually _ask_ the monsters—the ones they were about to kill—for _advice_. 

“Please, I was just messing around! I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” a particularly evil werewolf tried to argue while tied up.

“You know what? I’ll think about believing you if you can help me and my friend with something,” Dean responded.

The werewolf looked confused as Sam rolled his eyes.

“See, we wanna get married,” Dean continued, “But we don’t know where. We’ve researched every church in every state where gay marriage is legal, but we can’t seem to make up our minds. You got any suggestions for us?”

“You’re kidding, right?” she answered after a beat.

“OK, fine, we’ll just kill you,” Dean said as he stepped toward her.

“Wait, wait, hold on. Um, uh, you don’t have to get married in a church? You could pick a spot you both like and set something up. Go somewhere that’s…important to you. An outdoor location possibly?”

Dean turned to Cas and shrugged. “What do you think, buddy?”

“I do enjoy outdoors quite a bit. Perhaps a forest or—”

“Whoa, let’s not get married in purgatory, all right?”

“Hey, speaking of purgatory,” Sam cut in, “how ‘bout we send this poor girl there, huh?”

Dean obliged amid protests of, “But I helped you! I did what you—”

 

Sam decided to make a bet with himself to see how long he could last before intervening. If he walked in a room to find Cas and Dean hunched over a computer in concentration, he would 180 and leave before they’d see him. If they asked him to play cards or a board game with them, he would politely decline. (“Absolutely not. I’m not going to sit here and watch you babies kill each other over Monopoly. And poker always somehow turns into strip poker and I think I might ask Crowley to send me straight to hell if I have to see either one of your dicks again.”) He _almost_ broke when he entered the library one day to find every single book on the floor, no Cas in sight, and Dean standing half naked with his hands tied above his head.

“We got carried away doing research. I pissed Cas off,” was the only explanation Dean offered. “Can you…?” He shook his hands.

Sam stared at his brother for a solid 20 seconds before leaving the room.

“Sam! Sammy! C’mon, man! I’ve been stuck like this for 30 minutes!” 

He stayed stuck like that for the next two hours. 

Later— _way_ later—Sam learned that Dean and Cas had decided to see if any books could help them pick a location, so they had spent the afternoon skimming every single book that might spark an emotional attachment to a place. Cas kept tossing books aside after flipping through them, and Dean would pick each one up delicately and lecture the angel about respecting books because they have value and blah blah blah (Cas’ exact words), and Cas would try to explain that the physical manifestation of the book itself does not have inherent value as long as the words stay intact, but then Dean would demonstrate what wear and tear does to a book’s words if you throw it around often enough and then Cas said something about demonstrating what wear and tear does to Dean if you throw him around often enough and then they were making out against the bookshelves and Cas purposely pulled and knocked every book off the shelves and left Dean tied up so that he had to look at the mess and not be able to clean it up and why does Sam still put up with this bullshit.

Sam didn’t intervene then, and he didn’t intervene when Dean suggested they get married in the garage downstairs, and he didn’t intervene when Cas retaliated with getting married on an airplane, and he didn’t intervene when they called the entire wedding off for four days, and he didn’t intervene when they put the wedding back on and started arguing over the date again, and he didn’t even intervene when they each had a spot picked out but they couldn’t decide which one to choose so they made Sam referee thumb wars for three hours one day. Fucking thumb wars for God’s sake.

“I’m going on a hunt,” Sam announced one morning when he came into the kitchen with a duffel bag on his back.

“What?” Dean asked, offended.

“I’m going on a hunt. By myself. I’ll be gone three days, and if you haven’t decided where this wedding is happening by then, I’ll make you get married in the backseat of the Impala.”

Dean made a face at Cas like “that’s not such a bad idea actually,” but Cas quickly shut it down with his own “I will fucking kill you” face.

“All right, so, um, don’t kill each other, and I’ll be in touch.” Sam headed out of the room before they could protest. 

When Sam came back exhausted and bruised three days later, he walked into a silent house. There was neither the sound of the usual deep voices arguing or sweet-talking nor the unwelcome noises of clumsy sex and wrestling. No, there was silence. Peace. Wow.

Sam sank into the nearest couch and sighed contentedly. He was moments from drifting off to sleep when, “Heya, Sammy.”

“Go away, Dean.”

“But we have news.”

Sam sat bolt upright and stared at the grin on his brother’s face.

“I swear to God, Dean, if you’re lying—”

“We picked a spot. Don’t hate me, but we can’t tell you where it is.”

“What the fu—”

“He’s not lying, Sam,” Cas interrupted. “It would be best if it’s a surprise for you. Please trust us.”

Sam was confused by Cas’ sad sincerity, but he decided to let it go. “All right, fine. At least tell me how you decided.”

Dean and Cas shared a knowing look. “It should’ve been the first place we thought of, actually,” Dean said. “One of those too-good-to-be-true things, which is why it took us so long to think of it.”

“Yeah, now I _really_ don’t wanna know. Thanks for squashing my curiosity,” Sam deadpanned. 

“Any time, brother,” Dean responded as he stood and ruffled Sam’s hair. “You can sleep now. Cas and I are gonna drive up near the mountains and star gaze.”

“You guys are so cliché it’s actually gross.” 

“Well, you’re—gross,” Dean mumbled before taking Cas’ hand and leaving the room.

 

For two weeks things were back to normal. Cas and Dean returned to fighting a _healthy_ amount, and Sam didn’t dread being in the same room with them. They were affectionate and silly and exactly what an engaged couple _should_ act like. Until Sam ruined it again. Seriously, Sam wanted to jump back in the pit he was so mad at himself. 

“We could go to that fancy burger-sushi combo place you love. If I call them now, we could probably get a reservation for tonight.”

“We always go where I want to go, Dean. Why do you never want to go to _your_ favorite places?”

“My favorite places are your favorite places, dumbass. You know I’m not happy if you’re not happy.”

“But babe, I don’t even require sustenance.”

“Exactly. I feel terrible if you just sit there and watch me eat.”

“But I love watching you eat.”

“You’re gross.”

“It’s not my fault that you eat in an attractive manner.”

“Hey guys,” Sam cut in. He had been just around the corner and had decided to join them in the meeting room before the conversation got any more awkward. He sat across from them at one of the tables. “It’s true, Cas. He doesn’t have favorite restaurants. He used to bitch about where we’d eat, but in reality he didn’t care. He always just went wherever I wanted to go.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Dean responded with a fond smile. Age had made him a little bit sappy and sentimental, a little less concerned with hiding his feelings for his family.

“So you guys are going on a date tonight?”

“Yeah, since all this wedding stuff has been going on, we haven’t been able to go out much,” Dean said, throwing an arm behind Cas’ chair.

“How’s that going?” 

“How’s what going?”

“Uh, the wedding planning? You know, planning the wedding you’re having in less than a year. You _do_ know how weddings work, don’t you?” Shut up, Sam, shut up shut up shut up.

Cas and Dean shared a terrified look before turning their attention back to Sam. “I’ve never been to a wedding,” Cas offered.

“I’ve been to like two maybe,” Dean added.

“OK, well, you’ve already worked out the hardest things, so that’s good. And neither of you are female, so you don’t need to worry about getting a dress really far in advance. Although you probably should get tuxes soon, if that’s what you’re going for. I’d be able to help you more if you told me where this event is happening, but whatever. You _do_ want my help at this point, right? I mean, no offense, but you guys are pretty hopeless.” 

“Yes. Yes, absolutely, we need your help,” Dean answered quickly. “What all do we need to do? We can start a fricking list.”

Sam was about to fire off everything he knows about weddings until he saw Cas’ face drop. “You know, you guys should go on your date tonight. Make that reservation. This can wait, really.”

Dean looked at Cas then like he understood why Sam was backtracking. He pulled the angel close to his side and pressed a kiss into his temple. “I’m sorry, sweetie, Sammy’s right,” he whispered. Then he got very close to Cas’ ear and said something (thankfully) inaudibly that made Cas blush extremely hard.

 

“All right, give it to me. What do I need to know about weddings?” Dean asked the next morning as he poured his coffee.

“Not taking coffee to Cas today?”

“He’s still knocked out. I’m telling you, man, I can’t believe how easy it’s gotten to make Cas act human. I mean—”

“Dean. Don’t need to know more about your perverted sex life than I already do.”

“Sorry, yeah, uh, wedding planning. Go.” Dean grabbed a notepad and pen out of a nearby drawer. 

“Well, there’s the guest list. That should be interesting considering everybody we know is—”

“Yeah, we actually already worked that out. What’s next?”

Sam thought about asking how in the hell they already worked out a guest list, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. “Um, what kind of wedding is it going to be? Formal, themed, what time of day so you know what kind of food to serve, what’s the color scheme, etcetera. And then you have the added bonus of worrying about who’s going to walk down the aisle and who’s already going to be up front if you’re planning a traditional ceremony.”

“All I know right now is that it’s definitely going to be formal,” Dean said while writing. “You’ll need to go tux shopping with us.” 

“Yeah that should be fun,” Sam grumbled to himself. “Next you’ve gotta worry about invitations and catering and music and a priest and pictures. Oh I almost forgot, are you guys going to have bachelor parties or a rehearsal dinner or anything like that?”

“Shit, I hadn’t even thought about that. Goddamn it, why did we decide to get married? What were we thinking? Why haven’t you talked me out of this?”

“Shut up, Dean. You love Castiel more than anything. Don’t act like you haven’t been secretly planning your wedding since the day he pulled you out of hell.”

“I tried to kill him the day he pulled me out of hell, thank you very much.” Dean paused and took a long drink of his coffee. “But yeah, I do love the fucking angel a whole fucking lot.” Dean shook his head and then shyly smiled at the floor. 

“What?” Sam asked, not able to hide his own smile.

“Ah nothing, I just…Sometimes I just can’t believe how fricking lucky I am. I mean, pretend I never said this or I’ll kill you, but…all the shit we’ve been through and put up with in our lives—dude, I’d do it all over again if it meant I got to marry Cas.”

Sam took it to his grave that at that moment, Cas walked by, saw what they were talking about, and disappeared around the corner to eavesdrop.

  

Once Cas and Dean switched into serious planning mode, things actually shockingly became pretty civil. Sam helped them out some, but for the most part they took care of it all themselves. The only really big deal was how to arrange the ceremony. Sam stayed up until a.m. one night with the couple just because it was hysterical watching them act out (in their pajamas) all the possible scenarios for the event. 

“I mean, Sammy’s the only groomsman, so that’s already weird. And then it’s not like either of our dads can walk us down the aisle so why do we even have an aisle?” Dean argued.

“We don’t have to have an aisle, Dean. Or we could both just walk in together, hand-in-hand like I know you want to.”

“You don’t know what I want,” Dean whined.

“Really? Sam, test me. Ask me what Dean wants,” Cas said seriously. 

“OK, um, what’s Dean’s favorite type of pie?”

“Trick question, Dean doesn’t have a favorite. Pie is pie, and he’s just as happy with gas station crap as he is with my homemade masterpieces.”

“That’s not—” Dean tried to butt in.

“What’s Dean’s favorite thing to do when he has time to himself?”

“Gross,” Dean mumbled. 

“Yes, you would _think_ it’s something gross, wouldn’t you? That’s what Dean wants you to think. Because he’s embarrassed that he actually sneaks into the library and steals the books and at this point has read at least half of the ones we have.” 

Sam looked at Dean then to see if it was true, and the way Dean rolled his eyes and blushed gave it all away. No more allowing complaints about research then.

“I can’t believe I’m about to ask this, but I really want to embarrass Dean and I know the answer, so what’s Dean’s biggest kink?”

“No, there is no way either of you know this. Absolutely not. I’m moving out if you guys know this.”

“Dean likes alien roleplaying. He likes pretending like I’m some alien that came from another world just to learn how to have sex with him. He has an entire character he’s created that he puts me in the role of without my knowledge, or so he thinks.”

“What the fuck,” Dean breathed.

Sam could barely talk through his laughter. “Dude, Cas figured it out like a year ago. He spent weeks asking me why you said certain things in bed. And you watch a ton of alien movies. Why do you think he dressed like a Na'vi for Halloween last year?”

“That was a great night. Dean made me come four times,” Cas reminisced. 

“I’m never speaking to you two again,” Dean grumbled.

“What’s Dean’s favorite outfit?” Sam continued. He was having more fun with this than he ever thought possible.

“On me? I think we just answered that with the Avatar costume. But, uh, for himself Dean likes his handmaiden costume that Charlie gave him. It makes him feel like the hero he deserves to be.”

“I think I might puke.”

Sam and Cas continued to ignore Dean completely. “Childhood crush?”

“He’ll say Molly Ringwald, but really it’s Anthony Michael Hall.”

“Favorite pet name.”

“That I call him: Dea—”

“I swear to God, Cas, if you say it I’m not having sex with you for a month. I’m not even kidding.”

“OK, fine. That he calls me: pumpkin pie.”

“Favorite monster to kill.”

“Shapeshifter.”

“Least favorite.”

“Vampire of course.”

“All right, have we exhausted this yet?” Dean asked exasperatedly.

“One more. What does Dean want more than anything in the world?” 

Cas turned to look at Dean for the first time since this started. Sam couldn’t decide if he wanted to cry or cringe at the disgustingly adorable expression the morons shared.

“Dean wants his family to be safe and happy, and he selfishly wants to be with them—us. Always.”

 They didn’t say much after that. They simply marveled in silence at the fact that Dean pretty much had exactly what he always wanted.

“Hand-in-hand then. It’s decided,” Dean finally confirmed.

  

Tux shopping ended up being more fun than Sam expected. Just kidding, it was a disastrous affair that spanned several days and made Sam want to force Cas and Dean to get married in paper bags.

They drove around for nine hours one day, stopping at every fancy men’s clothing store within a 200-mile radius of the bunker. Sam actually really liked one of the first tuxes he tried on, but Dean wouldn’t let him rent it because “it has to match mine and Cas’, and we’re picking ours out first.” So Sam decided to just sit back and judge their choices until they made up their minds.

The first big obstacle they ran into happened almost immediately, when a sales clerk informed them that they should probably get measured. Dean panicked when it was revealed that he had gone up a pant size, making him two sizes bigger than Cas.

“We were the same size when this relationship started,” Dean said through gritted teeth. “This is all your fault, Castiel.”

“I haven’t baked in three months, fatass. I’ve been telling you for years that your horrendous dietary habits would eventually catch up to you.”

Sam and the sales clerk made eye contact as they both stifled laughter.

“Not that they really have, though. You look basically the same,” Cas continued.

“When’s the wedding?” the sales clerk cut in.

“March,” Cas and Dean answered simultaneously.

“And how long have you two been together?”

“Forever,” Sam said before Cas and Dean could answer. “At least that’s what it feels like.”

“Two and a half years,” Dean offered, ignoring Sam.

“We’ve known each other for nearly a decade,” Cas added.

“How sweet. You two make a very cute couple.”

Dean grinned and winked at Cas. “Yeah, we’re adorable.”

“All right, quit acting gross and start trying on some dresses,” Sam demanded.

And so Dean insisted upon trying on every single tux in every single store they went to. Cas found one he liked in the second store, but Dean told him to “remember it, and we’ll come back if you don’t find anything better.” By the end of the day, Cas and Sam were exchanging looks that screamed, “Why the fuck do we put up with this idiot.” They were so sick of Dean by the time they were driving home that the two of them elected to fall asleep in the backseat, Sam pushed up against the door and Cas leaning into Sam. (A few days later Sam noticed that Dean had changed his phone background to a picture he must’ve taken of him and Cas asleep on each other. God, Dean was starting to act old.)

In the end, Dean finally found the perfect tuxes, and Sam and Cas heaved sighs of relief. They were black with a dark gray vest, lighter gray shirt and black tie. Sam thought it was kind of generic until he tried his on and realized that the coat and tie shimmered in the light. Fucking _Dean_. 

As the wedding got closer and closer, Dean and Cas got jitterier and more annoying. They never shut up about their excitement, and they would shoot suspicious smiles at Sam like they knew something awesome that he didn’t know.

Which was true. They _did_ know something he didn’t know. It didn’t bother him at all. Nope. Not one bit. He did not care at fucking all. He really didn’t. Sneaking bastards.

 

“We’re gonna have a bachelor party this weekend,” Dean announced way too early in the morning one day.

“Uh, you planned one?” Sam asked. 

“No, we’re just gonna go to a nice bar and get wildly drunk. You’re coming with us.”

“Wait a second, you’re having a joint bachelor party? Like, together?”

“Yeah, is that weird?”

Sam took a beat before answering, “For normal people, yes. For you and Cas, no.”

“OK then, this Saturday. I’ve already stocked up on liquor so that Cas can start drinking here beforehand instead of shutting the bar down.”

“This should be fun,” Sam said under his breath. 

It turned out that watching Cas pre-game was no fun for Sam and Dean, so all three of them were in the laughing and hugging each other stage of drunkenness when they called a cab to pick them up from the bunker.

“Oh by the way, Sammy, we invited some people to this party,” Dean said in the cab.

“What? What people? You know people?”

“Fuck off.”

Sam started laughing then for no reason and then Cas and Dean were making out and Sam didn’t mind because, well, alcohol. (They had piled into the back of the cab and Dean was sitting on Cas’ lap to give Sam more room.)

The bar they went to had to be the busiest one in the Midwest. It was also the weirdest bar Sam had ever seen, almost like a bar made exclusively for people attracted to everybody. There were male dancers and female dancers and straight people and gay people and everybody in between and seriously how did all of these people end up in the same place.

“What kind of bar is this?” 

“Cas found it online. It’s like bisexual heaven, right?” Dean answered enthusiastically.

“Yeah, actually.” 

“We told them we were coming, too. Everybody’s celebrating me and the angel tonight,” Dean yelled amid the noise, his arm slung around Cas’ shoulder possessively.

“Hey bitches, fancy seeing you here,” a very familiar voice called from behind them.

Sam turned and wrapped Charlie up in a tight squeeze without thinking.

“Oh hi, Sam. I didn’t realize we were this close,” Charlie said bluntly. 

“Of course we are. Dean didn’t tell me you’d be here. It’s been what? A year or so?”

“Well, you know, I’m a busy person. And you missed the last battle.”

“I was there. I kicked ass,” Dean interjected. 

“Whatever, handmaiden,” Charlie joked. 

“Hey sweetheart, thanks for being here. C’mere,” Dean said seriously, pulling Charlie in for a hug and a sloppy kiss to the forehead. 

“Yeah, yeah, OK, let’s start taking shots. I mean, obviously you guys have already started, so I’ve got some catching up to do.”

On their way over to the bar, they ran into Jody Mills.

“You were invited to this, too? Geez, Cas and Dean don’t tell me anything,” Sam complained.

“Surprise. And hello to you, too,” she answered, hugging Sam tightly.

She and Sam ended up taking shots and dancing like idiots together for most of the evening.

As the night progressed, a couple other friends showed up, too. The hostess from the restaurant Cas and Dean went to on their first date, Maggie, came and told embarrassing stories of all the times the couple had eaten there in the past three years. They went there so often that they knew most of the wait staff, but Maggie was special. She would sometimes clock out and sit with them right up until closing time. She and her girlfriend had been to the bunker a few times to hang out. She even knew all the Winchester family secrets and didn’t even ask Cas to demonstrate that he’s a supernatural being when they told her. Sam, Dean and Cas were actually all hopelessly in love with her and fought often over who was the closest to her.

Garth stumbled in, already drunk, after they had been there an hour. He took Dean away from everybody for a few minutes, and Sam watched as they had a serious conversation and hugged for an usually long amount of time. What.

Several others came and went: hunting buddies they had made over the years (ones that were still alive), friends they had made in places they frequented near the bunker (Sam would’ve called them neighbors if the bunker actually had other houses around it), a few of their dad’s or Bobby’s friends. They convinced almost everybody to get insanely drunk with them, and by the end of the night the entire bar really _was_ celebrating Cas and Dean. Sam was shocked at the amount of actual friends they had managed to make and keep alive recently. 

“To the stupidly happy couple we all got sick of almost three years ago!” Maggie shouted to the room after champagne was passed out to everyone.

Everybody cheered and raised their glasses as Dean yanked Cas in for a sloppy kiss.

“You guys are gross,” Charlie shouted through laughter.

Dean plopped down in a chair across the room from everybody and pulled Cas into his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around Cas’ stomach and squeezed. “We’re _in love_ ,” he explained.

“Doesn’t Dean usually sit in Cas’ lap? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it the other way around,” Maggie commented to Sam and Jody.

“Dean’s possessiveness really comes out when he’s drunk. But yeah, usually he lets Cas be the possessive one in their relationship.”

“Sam, how do you live with those two?” Charlie joined in.

“Oh, you get used to it after a while.” As he said it, he watched Dean stick his hand up Cas’ shirt and begin tickling him. Cas started actually giggling and squirming in his lap.

“Really?”

“No, not really. It’s a daily battle not to go join a pack of werewolves because they’d be more civil than them.” 

“I’m sorry, I still can’t believe they finally admitted their feelings for one another,” Jody added. “I mean, it’s been three years and it’s still weird.”

“Yeah, I remember meeting Dean and thinking, ‘wow, this guy needs to get done by a dude as soon as possible,’” Charlie said.

“Are you serious?” Sam asked.

“Uh, yeah? It was kinda obvious after he helped me flirt with that security guard way back when. And you know, we gays know how to spot others of our kind. Not that Dean was hard to spot.”

“He still has a hard time believing that we all knew,” Sam said.

“My apologies, but I can’t believe this conversation,” Maggie interjected. “ _That’s_ the Dean Winchester I’ve always known.” She pointed without even looking in Dean and Cas’ direction. Cas had turned around and was facing Dean and straddling him, and they were whispering in each other’s ears and laughing drunkenly. “I find it impossible to believe that Dean has ever been attracted to anyone other than Cas. Furthermore, there is no way in hell that man ever gave two cents about people’s opinions of his sexuality.”

Everyone exchanged knowing looks before responding to the poor clueless girl. 

“I’ll take this one,” Sam said. “Maggie, I’ve spent the last 12 or so years with my big brother, and he didn’t even bring up the topic of his sexuality until two years ago. Yeah, a year into his and Cas' relationship. Most of the time I don’t even think he realized what he was doing when he blatantly checked out a dude or blushed when a guy showed him attention. Some of the monsters we’ve killed over the years even used it against him and he still wouldn’t talk about it. He and Cas knew each other for what? Six years? Six years of sexual tension, Maggie. _Six years._ Cas rebelled against all of heaven, started wars, lost his grace—all in the name of Dean Winchester. And don’t even get me started on what Dean’s done for Cas under the guise of ‘I need you, you’re family.’ Yeah, family my ass. This nauseating picture you see in front of you was several long, hard years in the making, Maggie.”

Everybody nodded in agreement.

“I just…I overheard them discussing their complicated sex life the very first time I met them. I don’t think we’re talking about the same people.”

“Well, believe it.”

At that moment, the noise in the bar greatly increased, and they all looked around to find the commotion.

Strippers? Oh right, this _was_ a bachelor party.

The strippers were all female and extremely tall and aggressive-looking, and all five of them marched right over to Cas, pushed him off Dean’s lap and into his own chair, and began a routine that made Cas look like he might leave his vessel and never come back.

Cas turned quickly to Dean for help, but Dean was doubled over laughing. What an asshole. Brilliant, but an asshole just the same.

 

Sam didn’t remember anything after that. He woke up in the middle of the afternoon the next day on the floor of the library, using _Jane Eyre_ as a pillow. Charlie was passed out on the table wearing nothing but boxers and her bra.

Sam went to his room to see why he didn’t sleep there, and he found Maggie, her girlfriend, and a cocker spaniel (literally what the fuck) piled in his bed.

On his way to the kitchen, he stepped over one of the bartenders and strippers tangled together in the hallway, Garth sitting in the meeting room with his face on the table and his clothes on inside-out, and a pile of unidentifiable individuals wearing a lot of plaid and flannel over near the stairs to the dungeon. Sam did _not_ want to know who might be in the dungeon itself.

Jody and another of the strippers were seemingly the only ones awake, and they were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee like civilized human beings.

“What the hell happened last night?” Sam asked.

“Dean ordered limousines, and he told all of us to crash at his place. I think there’s around 50 people here, bud,” Jody answered.

“Good lord. Where are Cas and Dean?”

“Probably still asleep in their room. They conked out pretty quick once we got here.”

“It seems everybody did that.”

The unnamed stripper laughed.

“Wow you really don’t remember anything.”

“What? What happened?”

“Oh this is awkward, but, um, everybody sort of took most of their clothes off, and you and Garth sang a duet of a Taylor Swift song, and people were just dancing really provocatively and making out with each other. Maggie’s girlfriend showed up in the middle of the night with their dog, and I’m pretty sure you walked in on them in your room and tried to join them and they put a good beating on you.” (Oh, so that’s why Sam was unusually sore and had a busted lip.) “And apparently you and Charlie made out? That’s what I heard at least, that you guys were going at it in the library.”

What the hell. “And Cas and Dean missed all of this?” 

Jody chuckled. “Yeah, they went straight to bed. A few people tried to bust in on them to catch them having sex, but they were sound asleep in their pajamas, Cas curled up in Dean’s arms. We got pictures.”

Wow. So at Cas and Dean’s bachelor party, Sam managed to make the biggest fool of himself. He didn’t see that one coming.

Charlie walked in then wearing Sam’s shirt. “Good morning,” she said cheerily.

“Did we…?” Sam asked.

“We did not have sex, no. I’m still a gold star lesbian. We did, however, get mostly naked and make out pretty hard, and I gotta tell you, Sammy, you’re not what I expected.” 

Sam could feel the heat rise in his face. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, soft and gentle and tender?” 

“No, that’s Dean,” Jody spoke up.

Everybody immediately turned their attention to her.

“What? We hooked up a few years back. It’s not a big deal.”

“All right, well, um, I’m going to go dig a hole for myself and live in it, so you guys can handle kicking everybody out and cleaning the bunker, right? OK, good,” Sam announced as he exited the kitchen. 

A couple hours later, everybody was awake and cleaned up and clothed, and they all helped put everything back together, and Dean even made a big meal for everyone before they left. He promised the wedding would be even better than the party, but Sam didn’t believe him.

There’s no way in hell their wedding could top the bachelor party of the century.

Only two weeks to wait and see.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pet name Cas was going to say for Dean is Deanie-weenie. That's kind of a double shout out to my favorite line in Harry Potter, "Mollywobbles," and [this ridiculous video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxWLJi-zMFY).


	7. The Destination

“You sure you wanna go through with this, man?”

“If I say no, will you stop asking?”

“C’mon, I’m trying to be serious, Castiel.” Dean smacked him playfully.

“Dean Winchester, I swear to my absent father that there is nothing I am more sure about than desiring to marry you. Now, are you asking me because of your own insecurities about this wedding?”

“What? No! Of course not, Cas. I love you to death and then some. I just don’t…I just don’t want you feeling pressured into doing something you don’t wanna do, that’s all.”

“You do remember who proposed, don’t you?”

“OK, asshole, I get it. I’ll quit asking.” Dean rolled over on his back so he wasn’t facing Cas anymore. 

Cas reached out, cupped Dean’s face, and turned it so that Dean had to look at him. “Dean. Even if we weren’t getting married tomorrow, I am still committed to you until you kick me out. There is virtually nothing that would make me leave you.”

Dean closed his eyes and pushed into Cas’ touch on his cheek, pressed his own hand on top of Cas’. “Thank you, Cas.”

“For what?”

“You know what.”

“I love you, too. Get some rest so you don’t look tired in front of your husband tomorrow. I’ll see you at the ceremony.”

“Hey, hon, be careful,” Dean said with a kiss. “Don’t expend too much energy doing this.”

“Promise I won’t,” Cas answered with another kiss. And then he was gone.

Dean fell asleep within minutes despite the empty space that was usually filled with a body curled around his. He was getting married tomorrow. Holy shit. 

 

Sam did not sleep at all. He spent the entire night wondering what the hell kind of wedding this was going to be. Going into it blindly scared the hell out of him, but nothing he said to Cas or Dean would convince them to let him in on the secret. So when he heard movement in the kitchen in the morning, he nearly sprinted out of his room in anticipation.

“Where’s Cas?” he asked as soon as he saw Dean casually pouring a cup of coffee as if this was just another fucking day. Since when is Dean the calm one? Jesus Christ, Sam was losing it.

“We’re traditional, Sammy. No seeing the bride before the ceremony.”

If he weren’t busy freaking out, he would’ve asked which one of them was the bride in this scenario. “Are you going to tell me where the wedding is now?”

“Nope.”

Sam was about to explode when Dean’s phone rang.

“You guys all here?” he asked when he picked up. “Awesome, I’ll come let you in.”

Dean was heading toward the door before Sam could ask what the actual fuck was going on. He decided to try and chill out, so he poured himself a cup of coffee. Before he took his first sip, Dean ran in shouting, “No, wait, don’t do that!” He promptly snatched the cup out of Sam’s hand before he had taken a sip. 

“Um, what?” Sam asked, staring around the room at Dean, Charlie, Jody, Garth, Maggie and Krissy Chambers.

“Uh, nothing, I’m just gonna—pour coffee for everyone,” Dean mumbled before walking over to the coffee pot. 

“So do _you_ guys know where this wedding is happening?” Sam questioned, offended before he even knew the answer. 

They all made sympathetic, regretful faces before nodding hesitantly.

“Are you fricking serious, Dean?” 

“Sammy, I promise—”

“No, I’m over it. I’m not fighting with you on your wedding day. Should I just go and get ready or…?” Sam realized in that instant that nobody else seemed to be ready either.

“Please. Sit back down. Here.” Dean shoved a mug of coffee into Sam’s hand.

“Am I allowed to drink this now?” Sam asked condescendingly.

“Wait until everybody has a cup,” Dean responded. Seriously what the hell.

“You sure this is gonna work, Dean?” Krissy questioned. 

“Only one way to find out,” Dean said before sticking his mug out for a toast.

They all clinked, drank, stared at each other for a moment, and then the room started to spin and Sam blacked out.

 

“Sammy? Sam. C’mon, man, wake up.”

“I’m awake, asshole. Where the hell are we?” Sam said before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

“Um. We’re at the wedding destination. We gotta go get ready.” Dean hoisted Sam up off the ground.

“What—where—how—”

“You’ve always had such a way with words.”

Sam shut up then and looked around. They were in a brightly lit house—mansion—and he heard people bustling around both above and below them. Dean led him into a bedroom where both of their tuxes were hanging up, ready to go. Dean shut the door behind them and looked a little nervous.

“You all right, Dean?”

“What? Yeah, um, yeah. I just, uh, you know, wedding jitters I guess. Actually being here is—um, yeah.”

“Being where exactly?” Sam began changing into his tux.

“You’ll see in like 10 minutes, dude. Chill.”

“Um, you’re kinda the one freaking out right now actually.” Sam did not tell Dean that he was putting his pants on backwards.

“Ugh, I know, I’m just really excited. Shit,” Dean said when he noticed his pants situation. “Hey, when you’re ready can you read over my vows?” 

“Of course. I’m surprised you didn’t ask me sooner.”

“It’s because I’m obsessive about them. I’ve been writing them for the past month, and I can’t seem to quit tweaking and just be done with them.”

Sam felt his heart swell. “You know, I’m really proud of you, Dean.” 

“Oh god, are we about to have a moment?”

“Yes, and you’re not going to complain because you like those now, remember? Dean, I love you. And I love Cas. And nothing makes me happier than putting up with you two and your bullshit. I’m not going to tell you not to mess this up with Cas, because I know you’re not going to. Um…I don’t think you understand how proud I’ve been of you in the past few years. I mean, of course I was proud of you before, but now you’re really—um, really…you’re just really _you_ now. You’re so much more vulnerable and open and carefree, and I’m just so fucking happy for you. And Cas, too—you bring out the best qualities in him like he does with you. I just—I, uh, I’m just really lucky to have you as both my brother and my brother-in-law.”

“I swear to God, Sam, if I have to get up there with puffy red eyes…” Dean mumbled while wiping tears from his cheeks. “C’mere.”

Sam and Dean hugged and cried for several moments.

“I love you, too, Sammy.”

They continued getting ready and Sam read Dean’s vows, and then finally, “All right, are you ready to see where we are?”

“Yes. Oh my god, yes.”

“Awesome, just promise me you won’t freak out too much, ‘kay?” 

“Um, OK?” Sam felt his heart pound in his chest in anticipation. 

When they walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway, Sam could hear several voices that sounded vaguely familiar downstairs. It took a moment for Sam to take it all in once he made it into the living room.

At first he didn’t think anything of it. He saw Charlie, Jody, Garth, Maggie, Krissy all dressed and ready now, and then he noticed Jo, Ellen, Ash, Pamela, what the fuck—

“What the fuck?” he breathed.

Ash was the first to come over with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Why yes, I did organize all this. You’re welcome,” he said.

“Are we…?” Sam began, staring around the room and finding Kevin, Bobby, Chuck, Rufus, and tons of others they had befriended and failed to save.

“In heaven, yeah. Believe it,” Ash answered smugly.

“How the fuck—” 

“Cas has been coming here like once a week, dude,” Dean interjected. “He and Ash have been finding as many people as they could and creating this place for us to get hitched.” 

“Did they find…?”

“Yeah, they’re here, Sammy. I was waiting on you before seeing them. C’mon, you can say hey to everybody else later.”

“You’re welcome again!” Ash shouted as Sam and Dean practically sprinted back upstairs all the way to the third floor. 

Dean stopped in front of a yellow door and knocked. “Can we come in?”

“Of course, dear.”

Sam’s pretty sure his heart dropped to his feet at the sound of the voice. Dean opened the door, and he and Sam were immediately bombarded by their parents.

Mom. Dad. Hugging them and telling them how much they loved them and how proud they are of them and how sorry they are for…everything.

Sam watched in awe as Mary cupped Dean’s face and whispered, “My sweet boy, finally settling down. I can’t tell you how much joy it brought me when Cas showed up here the first time. You’ve got a good one there, Dean. I’m so happy I get to be a part of this.”

Dean leaned down and kissed his mother’s cheek, and then she turned to Sam.

“And Sam, your father and Cas have told me so much of what you’ve done.”

Sam’s heart sank. Did she know everything? All the horrible things he had done and become? Was she ashamed of him?

Mary pulled Sam down to whisper in his ear. “I couldn’t be more proud of the man you are. There’s nobody on earth that could go through so much and be so good.”

Sam clung to his mother and cried silently into her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, sweetie, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” 

“Yeah, Sam, uh, it’s us who’s sorry,” John cut in. “I mean, I put you through so much…If I could do it all over again…”

“Dad, it’s OK,” Dean said. “We turned out all right, all things considered. C’mon, it’s my wedding day. Let’s be happy.”

Sam was thankful for Dean’s maturity in that moment. They sat with their parents for what felt like no time at all but was probably more like a few hours, talking about anything and everything. By the end of it, Sam felt like he had actually known his mother his whole life.

“I know time works differently up here, but we should probably get to the ceremony,” John said eventually.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Dean answered while standing to move to the door. “I don’t hear anybody downstairs anymore.” 

“We’ll see you boys down there,” John said before he and Mary left the room.

“Where’s the actual wedding happening?” Sam asked.

“Cas and a few angels set up a thing outside. It’s nice, you’ll like it.” Dean stopped walking.

“Dude, come on, what are you doing?”

“Uh, you go ahead. I’m going to go to the bathroom. Once you get outside Ellen will be there to tell you what to do.”

“Um, all right,” Sam answered. He wasn’t sure what Dean was up to, but he figured it out when he saw Cas waiting by the front door.

“Oh. I thought you were Dean,” Cas greeted in a disappointed manner.

“He’s coming. I think he’s making himself look real pretty for you, actually,” Sam said with a smirk. “You look good, Cas. Dean’s going to be all over you in just a minute.”

“That’s the plan,” Cas said very seriously, like he had just finished giving a war strategy.

Sam laughed. “I’ll see you out there. Oh and hey, great job putting all this together.” 

“Thank you, Sam. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“No, the surprise was worth it. I promise.”

When Sam walked outside, he was greeted by a perfectly sunny day, perfectly green grass, perfectly beautiful red and blue flowers surrounding the perfect guests sitting in white chairs on either side of a grassy aisle. There was a lake in the distance and a lush forest on the other side. It smelled like apples and springtime without the pollen, and there was a man playing a harp that Sam could hear in his soul.

“It’s been too long, Sam,” Ellen said, pulling him in for a hug.

“It’s great to see you, Ellen. Really. I’ve missed you.”

“Same to you. You should visit more often,” she commented with a wink. “So everybody’s already seated, which means you can go ahead up to the front.” 

Sam looked up to the altar then and saw Chuck waiting with a Bible.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Cas and Dean?”

At that moment, Cas and Dean walked out of the house hand-in-hand.

“Go,” Ellen commanded with a smack to Sam’s ass.

Sam walked down the aisle and gave Chuck a big smile before taking his place near him. He looked out at the crowd before Dean and Cas started their entrance. He could feel contentment grow inside him as he looked into the happy faces of almost everyone he had ever lost in his life. Suddenly he made eye contact with a particular person and had to will himself not to faint.

Gabriel. _Gabriel?_


	8. The End

Dean stared at himself in the mirror for a solid three minutes. He thought about shaving his short, graying beard completely off, but Cas would probably send him to hell if he did that. He messed with his hair for longer than necessary, adjusted his tux, and finally walked out.

Cas had his back to him when Dean walked down the stairs, and although Dean knew that it was impossible to surprise Cas, he still sneaked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his abdomen and hooked his chin on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, have you seen my husband? I can’t seem to find him,” Dean said into Cas’ ear.

“I seemed to have misplaced mine as well. He’s tall and broad, and he’s got light brown hair and large green eyes. You would know if you saw him, he’s extremely attractive. I find it difficult to even look at him sometimes,” Cas deadpanned.

Dean blushed. He was so glad Cas had caught onto the art of sarcasm. “You ready to get married, buddy?”

Cas turned around then and they both just took each other in for a long moment. Cas took a deep breath and answered, “Yes. I have never been more prepared for anything in my life.”

Dean kissed Cas’ cheek and laced their fingers together. “Let’s do this.”

Everybody stood and stared when they walked out, and Dean’s grip would’ve broken Cas’ hand if he weren’t an angel.

Dean’s nerves relaxed a little once he was up at the altar and staring into Cas’ smiling eyes. 

Chuck made opening comments about how wonderful it was for all of them to be able to gather together when it wasn’t possible on earth. Everybody laughed when he said that nobody’s surprised it took Dean Winchester so long to settle down that nearly all of his friends had died by the time of the wedding. He continued with, “We’re already in heaven, and we’re already in the presence of angels, so instead of preaching a sermon, I’m going to talk about Dean and Cas.” He described in great detail the sheer loyalty and absolute trust Cas and Dean had demonstrated since the start of their friendship. He talked about the end of the world and everything Sam, Cas and Dean had accomplished together. “Whether these men were able to save us or not, let’s keep in mind everything they have done for the world, the personal impact they’ve had in all of our lives, and everything they’ve sacrificed to protect their family. I don’t think there’s a single person or angel here that wanted anything different for this family than the happiness that Dean and Cas have.”

Dean was in tears by the end of the speech. He said his vows first because he would’ve been even more of a mess if he had to say them after Cas’.

“Castiel. Cas, I owe my life to you. You saved me when you didn’t know me, and you trusted me when it wasn’t the right choice. I have no idea why an angel would ever choose to be with a man like me, but I am forever grateful. And not just any angel, either. Castiel: the clueless warrior with a huge heart and no people skills. I couldn’t be luckier. After everything we’ve been through, all the shit we’ve faced, there’s nobody on earth or in heaven or in hell or in purgatory that I would rather spend my life with. I love you so much, babe, and I promise to be the best that I can be for you, and to take care of you even though you don’t need taking care of, and to be by your side even if there’s another Apocalypse.”

Cas looked at the ground for a second with a shy grin on his face, and then he started his own vows.

“There’s a word in Enochian that doesn’t have an English translation, but the best way I can describe it is a combination of love and companionship and loyalty and trust and righteousness and every quality I associate with Dean Winchester, so I guess the best translation is ‘Dean Winchester.’” (Oh so _that’s_ what Cas was always shouting in bed.) “Dean, I’ve been around the block a few times, to borrow a human phrase, and nothing and nobody has stopped me in my tracks the way you did. I knew it the moment I saw your soul in hell, and I’ve been in love ever since. No offense to all these people here, but I would—and have—betray all of heaven for you. You are worth everything I can give and more. And I vow to spend my life convincing you of that. I vow to watch over you and let you take care of me and protect you no matter the cost. I love you to the end, Dean Winchester.”

There was complete silence for a moment, and then a few people sniffled, and finally Chuck asked for the rings and Sam gave one to each of them.

“Dean, please repeat after me. I, Dean Winchester.”

“I, Dean Winchester.” 

“Take you, Castiel, as my lawfully wedded husband.”

“Take you, Castiel, as my lawfully wedded husband.”

“I promise to be your best friend and love you until my dying breath.”

“I promise to be your best friend and love you until my dying breath.”

“And then I plan to spend eternity with you after my dying breath.”

“And then I plan to spend eternity with you after my dying breath.”

Cas repeated the same thing, even though he probably wouldn’t ever have a dying breath. (And yes, they had talked about it. Of course Dean was self-conscious about getting old while Cas remained the same, but Cas wouldn't hear any of it. He assured Dean that he would find him beautiful no matter what and that if Dean's sex drive ran out, Cas would just magic some life into it.)

“I now pronounce you Dean and Castiel Winchester. Castiel, you may kiss the bride.”

It was Dean’s idea to be the bride, and Cas’ idea to take the family name. Everyone laughed and clapped as Cas hoisted Dean up around his waist and gave him a sloppy kiss.

“Just carry me out,” Dean whispered.

“Get on my back then.”

Cas set Dean down and turned so that Dean could climb onto his back and hold onto his wings. They made their way back inside with Sam and their parents in tow.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said when Cas set him down.

“Any time, Dean.”

“Congrats, guys,” Sam said with a clap to Cas’ back. “Proud of you two.”

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” Mary commented before hugging them both.

“Thanks, guys,” Dean answered. “Um, the reception is happening immediately so we should probably head there now.” 

Sam asked about pictures, but Cas informed him that they couldn’t take pictures in heaven. It was at that point that Sam realized—and he should’ve figured it out sooner—that the coffee they had drank that morning was poisonous, and all of them were literally dead. How in the hell was this a legal marriage. (Sam didn’t bother voicing this concern later on when Chuck handed over the documents he had to sign as a witness to the event.)

On their way to the reception, Dean whispered to Sam, “You saw him, right?”

“Yeah. What the hell, man?”

“I have no idea how Cas managed it. I haven’t talked to him yet, but apparently he wants to see you.”

Jesus Christ. “I guess I’ll talk to him at the reception then.”

Gabriel. Fucking Gabriel. How many years had it been? Ten? More? What in the world were they supposed to say to each other? Their relationship hadn’t exactly been a healthy one, if it could even be called a relationship at all. 

Sam had always had a soft spot for Gabriel—yes, even when he put him through absolute hell and yes, even when he put him through absolute hell _again_. There was always a part of Sam that wanted to give the angel a chance. It’s why he tried to convince Dean, when they still thought he was a trickster, to talk to him before killing him. There was something…good in Gabriel. He could see it because it was the same kind of good that was at the core of his own being, the type of good that kept Sam human when he was on the edge of turning into something else. It wasn’t the same kind of good that was in Dean—the unwavering, unrelenting kind that overflowed onto others and didn’t let the bad in Dean stand a chance. No, it was the kind that only showed its face when you were hanging off the edge of a cliff and hell itself was at the bottom of the ravine.

Sam had prayed to Gabriel all those years ago. On his third consecutive night of doing so, the angel had shown up. 

“My _God_ , you’re annoying. Wait, no, I’m sorry, let me think of a nicer word…persistent? Yeah, that’s kinder. My _God_ , you’re persistent. What do you want, sasquatch?”

“What is it with you?”

“You’re joking, right? You called me here to get personal information out of me? _Really?_ ”

“I don’t know, I feel like I deserve that much after everything you put me through,” Sam answered confidently. “I just wanna know why. Why do all this messing around and killing and hiding your identity when I know for a fact that you care about all of this?”

“Listen, Sammy, you’re cute, and I’m sure you’re used to this…empathetic puppy dog thing you’ve got going on working for you, but you can’t fool me, all right? You’re not going to make me have feelings hour with you outside of a shitty motel.”

“You wouldn’t have shown up if you didn’t at least care.”

“Oh I’m sorry, do you not remember the three days I ignored you? I’m here to tell you to shut up. Quit calling me.”

“No.” 

They stared at each other for a long time before Gabriel finally broke the silence.  “I’m gonna go now.”

“No you’re not.”

“Are you actually serious right now?”

“You’re not leaving. You would’ve left already if you really wanted to. Admit it, nobody’s shown this much interest in you in years. You’re curious. And you like me, I can tell.”

Another long pause. “All right, _Sam_ , I’ll bite. We can talk, but on _my_ turf.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and suddenly they were in what appeared to be a honeymoon suite at a Ritz. 

“What do you like? Pie, like your brother? Or maybe chocolate mousse? Chocolate-covered strawberries? Actually, I can’t imagine you eat chocolate at all. Or anything else that mirrors happiness. How ‘bout I order you a salad?” 

“Do you ever shut up?”

“So a salad probably. I’ll hold the strippers tonight since you want to have me all to yourself, but I’m still ordering room service and generally pretending like you aren’t here.”

“I’ll eat whatever you eat.” Sam responded as he flopped down onto a nearby couch.

“By all means, make yourself comfortable.” Gabriel was across the room, dialing the number to room service on the phone next to his bed. 

“Do you live here?” 

“I’m an angel, dumbass. I live wherever the fuck I want. Are you gonna keep up the small talk or are we actually going to have a productive conversation?”

“Do you want to sleep with me?” That’s…not…what he meant to say. Shit.

Gabriel turned to Sam and stared in shock for a moment before a hungry grin took over his face. “I gotta say, Sammy, of all things I was _not_ expecting that.”

“That’s not—I wasn’t, um—”

“The answer is yes, by the way.”

There was a long pause where Sam’s brain turned into white noise.

“And _you_ want to sleep with me, even though I’m not sure you even realize that considering I had to dig deep into your subconscious to figure that one out.”

“No, I don’t—I’ve never even—” 

Suddenly Gabriel was right in front of Sam, leaning over the couch so Sam had to lift his head to meet his eyes. “Your brother would never know.”

Sam cleared his throat. Gabriel pushed a lock of Sam’s hair out of his face and then stroked his thumb across his cheek. Sam closed his eyes.

“It’s the end of the world anyway,” Gabriel said casually.

“Stop talking,” Sam responded, eyes still closed.

Then Gabe was there. His mouth on Sam’s, his hand working through Sam’s hair, his body making its way into Sam’s lap.

Sam couldn’t move for a second, but then Gabe was grabbing Sam’s arm and placing it on his hip, and Sam got the message and dug his hands into Gabe’s sides and pulled him closer.

Sam didn’t know how long they sat like that, but when there was a knock at the door, they both shouted something along the lines of “never mind, go away.”

“The bed is softer,” Gabe commented as Sam bit into his neck over and over.

Sam didn’t even hesitate to stand up and carry Gabriel over to the bed and throw him onto it before crawling over him. He had his hand halfway up Gabe’s shirt when the angel stopped him. 

“If you think you’re steering this ship tonight, you’ve got another thing coming.” 

Sam instinctively rolled over onto his back, and Gabriel sat up and straddled him.

“Good boy. You’ll have your chance later,” Gabe said condescendingly before removing Sam’s shirt. “Jesus Christ, Sam Winchester, no wonder Lucifer wants this body.”

“Thanks, but you should shut up and get to work.”

Sam was never much of a screamer before that night. 

He woke up the next day tangled in the silk sheets and hanging halfway off the bed. Gabriel was snoring next to him, his arm slung over Sam’s back.

“Gabriel, wake up. I have no idea where we are. You have to take me back,” Sam said as he shook the angel and looked around for his clothes. “Dean’s probably panicking.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Gabe grunted.

“What are you doing even sleeping? You don’t need sleep.” 

“You don’t know anything about me. Again, I do whatever the fuck I want. And your brother’s not even awake yet. We have time for a shower.”

Sam’s first instinct was to refuse, but what came out of his mouth was, “I owe you a blow job anyway.”

“Damn straight you do,” Gabe said as he leaned over and pressed a way-too-sweet kiss to Sam’s lips. 

“You have morning breath.”

“You have bedhead.”

“Fuck you.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

Sam nearly choked in the shower before he remembered that he’s only given two blow jobs in his entire life, and he’s never done anything at all in the shower before. Gabriel pulled him up and helped him through a good cough, and then they pushed each other up against the shower walls and made out for a while as a compromise. It was a giggly, soapy mess that neither of them were proud of or ever spoke of again.

Once Gabriel had flown them back to the motel, they stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments before Sam finally said, “I’ll call as often as I can.”

“I’ll be listening.” Gabe yanked Sam down by the front of his shirt and kissed him hard. “I won’t tell anyone.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

Dean had asked Sam if he was all right at least ten times the next day. Sam was distracted, lost in thought, dreaming of a world where he and Gabe made sense. They both had big brother baggage, they both dealt with the hand they’d been given rather poorly, they were both good guys disguised as monsters. There was so much they could talk about, so much they could help each other with, but Sam knew that wouldn’t happen. He knew what this arrangement would be like. Booty calls. That’s all it would be.

And it was. Gabriel showed up within seconds every time Sam called, and he whisked them away to wherever he fancied. Sam never even had time to talk before Gabe’s mouth was on his, or his hand on his dick, or his body in his lap. The sex was strangely…normal. Sam is generally rough in bed, fiery passion and a fast pace occasionally broken by laughter and slow eye contact. Women loved it, and Gabe was no different. Well, except he was better. He was rough when Sam was rough, gentle when Sam was gentle, laughed louder, pushed harder, moved faster, looked deeper. Even fighting over who topped was a fucking blast. Sam didn’t know if Gabriel created illusions when they had sex, but somehow thoughts of the Apocalypse and Lucifer never crossed Sam’s mind when he was with the angel. It became difficult to be away from him for too long. In the middle of the night when they were tired and heavy with sex, Sam would lie awake with a smile on his face and his limbs tangled with Gabriel’s. He would squeeze him tight and place butterfly kisses over every inch of his body he could reach as the angel breathed deep with sleep. Gabriel made everything…all right.

And when the morning came, they would talk in hushed whispers about how much fun the night before had been, how much they enjoyed each other, when they would do it again. Sam would curl into Gabriel’s side and Gabe would laugh and throw his arms around Sam’s broad back.

“You’re a strangely good little spoon,” Gabe commented affectionately.

“Dean and I shared a bed a few times as kids. Had to learn how to make myself small.”

“Be honest with me, have you and your bro ever…you know…?” 

“Ugh are you serious right now? Dean and I might have an unhealthy relationship—OK, we definitely have an unhealthy relationship, but we would never—I mean, he taught me how to masturbate when I was a kid, but—why am I even—”

“Please stop talking. I believe you, you codependent idiot.”

“What about you?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, Sam, Dean is attractive, but I’m not really into the whole tough-as-nails-but-I-look-like-a-goddamn-fairy-princess type.”

“That’s not what I mean, asshole. What about your brothers? You asked a personal question, now it’s my turn.” 

Gabriel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “My brothers rejected me long before I rejected them. They thought I was too in love with what earth had to offer. That I—I preferred earth over heaven. ‘What happened to the Gabriel that announced the birth of Christ to Mary? What happened to his unyielding faith?’ Like they were even there, they have no idea what it was like.” 

“You know I understand, right? You can talk to me and I can empathize.” Sam twirled his index finger over Gabe’s chest. “And I can make you feel better.”

“You understand what it’s like to be the most disappointing arch angel in all of history?”

“I understand what it’s like to be misunderstood by everyone and despised by my brother who tries so desperately to love me unconditionally while I make tons of mistakes.” 

Gabriel looked at Sam mournfully before leaning down to kiss his lips. “You’re not broken, you know.”

“And you’re not evil.”

 

The reception was strangely intimate despite being in a rather large room. The introductions were brief, and absolutely nobody—especially not Sam—cried at Cas and Dean’s first dance because that would be ridiculous.

“ _And I’ll build a fire, you fetch the water, and I’ll lay the table_.”

“Don’t sing too loud, dumbass. It’s a secret, remember?” 

“Oh so you’re going to start nagging me now that we’re married, huh? _I’ll wrap myself around your heart, I’ll be the walls of his heart—”_

“Dean.” Cas smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around Dean’s waist. They swayed lazily back and forth. 

“ _And in our hearts, we still pray for sons and daughters.”_

“I love you.” 

“I love you more.”

Cas’ brow furrowed, and Dean realized that nobody had ever said that to Cas before, so he didn’t understand that it was a joke. Dean dropped one of his hands to Cas’ waist so he could nuzzle his face into his neck.

“Dean, there are people here.” 

“What? It’s not like I’m grabbing your ass or marking your skin.”

As if on cue, everyone began clinking their glasses.

“What is that? What does that mean? Dean, why are they doing that?”

Dean laughed. “Cas, calm down, buddy. It’s a tradition. It just means that they want us to kiss. C’mere, you idiot.” Dean reached behind Cas’ head and pulled him forward. It felt like kissing Cas for the first time. Like he had to push every ounce of love he had for this being into this kiss or else he would lose him.

They continued pecking each other’s lips quickly and repeatedly long after the crowd stopped cheering.

“ _It’s all to come for now we’re still young._ ”

 

Sam somehow managed to make it through his toast without making eye contact with Gabriel once. He had the whole place laughing and Cas and Dean blushing as he described rather explicitly the complications he had dealt with in the past few years as the two morons tried to navigate a relationship. Charlie and Maggie’s joint toast, however, was the highlight of the entire wedding. They tag-teamed a story about Dean taking Larping too seriously and not realizing during a tournament that Cas was undermining his every move to see how frustrated he could make Dean. Charlie had opted to help Dean out while Maggie helped Cas, but everyone was in on the “can we make Dean mad enough to pull out a gun” game. Dean ended up figuring out what was going on, and while Cas was bent over laughing hysterically Dean had tackled him, and they had toppled down a hill into a dirty pond. Dean refused to let Cas clean him up, and he spent the next day and a half trying to get back at Cas but to no avail. The point of the story was to demonstrate what life was like now that Cas and Dean were together, so that all the people who died when the world was ending could better understand just how surreal this happiness was.

“You all right, Sammy?”

“Hmm? Yeah! Yeah, I’m just—you know—”

“He wants to talk to you, sweetie,” Mary cut in. “After we’re done eating you should go to his table.”

“Thanks, Mom, but, um, I think it’s more complicated than that.”

“You haven’t seen him in a decade, son. It can’t be that complicated,” John offered surprisingly reassuringly.

Sam looked down at his plate of food and sighed. “Dean, can I talk to you for a sec?” he asked.

“Uh, sure?”

Sam stood and started walking. He didn’t bother to check if Dean was following him.

“Do you know what I’m going to ask you?”

Dean squinted at Sam for several moments before realization took over. “Jess.”

“I need to know, Dean.”

“Cas and Ash found her, yeah. But…Sam, you wouldn’t want her here. Trust me.”

“You have to tell me why. I’m not speaking to Gabe until you tell me why. I know it’s your wedding day and everything, but come _on_ , Dean.”

“Fine, all right. Her heaven was…well—you were there. It wasn’t just memories of you. Like it was actually you—well not _you_ you obviously, but a version of you. Like an echo or something. We thought…we thought if we told her what was going on, it would shatter this world she had created. Basically her heaven wouldn’t’ve been heaven afterwards.”

Sam was silent for a moment. “OK, yeah, um. Yeah. I get that. I think. Thanks.” Before Dean could apologize or whatever, Sam walked back into the reception and straight to the bar where Gabriel was standing.

“Let’s dance,” Sam said bluntly. 

“Well hello to you, too, Sammy,” Gabe responded as he grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.

“Gabe, I swear to God if you don’t get your hands off my ass—”

“Don’t even start with me, Sam Winchester, I haven’t touched this ass in a decade. Throw me a bone here.” Gabriel pulled Sam in closer so that Sam’s crotch was rubbing up against his stomach.

Sam threw one arm around Gabe’s shoulder and his other on his waist. He tried to bend over, but the angel wouldn’t let him. “I can’t kiss you from up here.”

“Who said anything about kissing? Let’s talk. How have you been? What’s it like living with the grossest couple of all time?”

Sam stared down at Gabriel. “Are you serious right now? _You_ want to talk?”

“Sure. I mean, we never really…got the chance to…”

“Oh my god. You’re sentimental because we never said goodbye. Jesus, Gabe, how much do you like me? Because it didn’t feel like much at all when we—”

“Are you joking right now? You don’t think I _like_ you? I don’t know if you noticed, but I didn’t even have time to have sex with anybody else during the Apocalypse, and I _made_ time for you.”

“Wait. Are you saying you considered our set-up a—a relationship or something?” 

They didn’t notice that the song had changed to something fast and that people were laughing at them swaying back and forth in each other’s arms while they argued. “Yeah, I guess. Um, yeah. I really like you, Sammy. Sam.”

Sam bent over then and buried his face in Gabe’s shoulder.

“Shared mannerism between you and your brother, I see,” Gabe commented through laughter. “Your hair is tickling me, sasquatch.”

Sam lifted his head and smiled at the angel before leaning in for a chaste kiss. Then he let him go and backed up to start dancing like an idiot. Gabriel followed suit, taking both of Sam’s hands in his own so they could move together.

“Why’d you never tell me?” Sam shouted over the music.

“It wasn’t appropriate at the time. I…I, um, assumed I would die.” 

“You didn’t want me to grow attached?” Fuck. Gabe was a better person Sam had ever given him credit for. Granted, he was still a dick and a murderer, but he was also selfless and affectionate.

“No need to point it out. Please. I can’t deal with this sappy shit.”

Sam let it go then. They danced together until Sam remembered that there were other people at the party that he hadn’t seen in years. 

The first thing he did was ask his dad if he could cut in and dance with his mom.

“Hi Mom.” 

“Hey Sammy, how’s Gabriel?”

“Surprisingly good. I didn’t realize how much I had missed him.” Sam paused for a moment. “Um, Mom, I’m—I’m sorry that we screwed up so badly without you around.”

“Oh honey, please don’t say stuff like that. You shouldn’t feel guilty for anything. How many times am I gonna have to reassure you that you’ve done the best you could? Nobody could’ve handled the cards dealt to you and Dean better than you two have. I just wish I had been around to see you boys grow up.”

“I wish you’d been there, too. Dean was an OK mom I guess.”

Mary’s face lit up. “He seemed to do a fine job. I mean, you were clearly well fed at least. And you _nearly_ finished college.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, a lot of good _that_ did me.”

Sam felt his heart swell when his mother placed her hand on his cheek and turned his face so she could look into his eyes. “You wouldn’t have been a hunter if you hadn’t wanted to, Sam. It’s not what you were ‘destined’ to do. You _wanted_ to do it.”

“You know…nobody’s ever said that to me, Mom. Not one person has pointed that out.” 

“I’m not wrong, am I?’

“No. No, you’re not. I just wish I had known that about myself a long time ago.”

“You’re so hard on yourself sometimes.”

“I’ll try not to be.”

“That would make me very happy.”

The song ended, and Sam left his mom to go find Dean and Cas. They were on the other end of the dance floor, preparing for a drunken rendition of the YMCA with Charlie, Jo, Kevin and Ash. 

“Hey Kevin, Jo—how have you guys been?” Sam asked, hugging both of them. 

“Dead,” Jo deadpanned. 

“Dude, I’m just happy I’m not stuck in limbo anymore. That lasted way too long,” Kevin responded.

“Sorry about that again, Kevin,” Cas said seriously.

“Not your fault, Cas. I mean, _technically_ it is, but you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“Thank you…?”

“Sorry again for killing you, Kevin,” Sam said casually.

“Wow, you know what, I’m just now realizing that I could actually blame you people for everything bad in my life. You’re all going to take shots with me. Right now.” Kevin started to move toward the bar.

“But—the YMC…” Dean whined as Cas dragged him off the dance floor.

“To all the terrible pain we caused in Kevin’s life,” Sam said as they toasted. “Hey, how is it possible that we’re getting drunk in heaven?”

“You can do whatever the fuck you want in heaven,” Cas answered.

“Uh-oh, Cas is now cursing. That means we’ll be seeing vomit soon,” Charlie explained.

“That was one - hic - time.” Cas picked up his shot glass. “To Kevin proving to us that prophets could get even antsier than Chuck.”

“Cas, you might want to slow down a little. I was hoping to get laid tonight.”

“You listen to me, Dean Winchester. I have been – hic – having pre-marital sex with you frequently for the past three years. If you think I give a fuck about you getting laid on your wedding night, you—” Cas stopped like he forgot what he was saying.

“I love this Cas. He gets all authoritative like we’re actually gonna feel his heavenly wrath meanwhile his wings are hanging limp and dragging on the floor.” 

“You can see his wings?” Jo asked.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been able to for years.”

“Geez.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that you two really are made for each other. Of course I knew you were in love with him when I was alive, but I didn’t realize you were so…soulmate-ish.”

“Well thanks, Jo, glad to add you to the list of people who didn’t inform me of my feelings for Cas,” Dean answered cynically.

“Am I on that list?” Pam interrupted as she walked up to join them. 

“You’re at the fucking top,” Cas said. “You knew I loved Dean when I burned your eyes out.”

Pam laughed. “Yeah…man, good times.”

“Really? _Good times?_ Pam, your eyes burned out. You were blind and then you died,” Sam said.

“Well gee, when you put it that way it sounds terrible. My mistake,” Pam retorted. 

“To Sam and Dean and Cas ruining all of our lives,” Kevin slurred as he held up his shot glass. 

There was an emphatic agreement of “here, here” and “amen” from everybody before they drank.

Cas slammed his shot glass onto the bar before falling into Sam’s shoulder face first. 

“Whoa, hey, wrong Winchester, buddy. C’mon, this way,” Sam said awkwardly as he pushed Cas over to Dean like they were passing a baby.

“You guys are a shit show.”

“Oh hey Krissy, nice of you to join us,” Dean said as he shifted his weight so he could hold Cas up.

“Angel of the Lord can’t handle his alcohol, huh?”

“Apparently not,” Dean muttered.

“Angels are more – hic – affected in heaven,” Cas managed to spit out.

“Well _that_ would’ve been nice to know before you drank a fifth of tequila at dinner,” Dean scolded. 

“I can’t believe we’re in heaven and you still won’t let me drink.” 

“Krissy, we have been over this. You are not drinking until you’re 21.”

“All right, _Dad._ ”

Dean glared at her, and everyone laughed because he looked so much like a dad it was ridiculous.

“To everyone but Krissy getting drunkenly laid tonight,” Charlie toasted.

“Who are _you_ gonna sleep with?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“Whoa there, friend, do I hint jealousy that I didn’t have _you_ in mind? Sure, we had a nice night together, but like I already told you—”

“Wait. What?” Dean interjected.

“Oh _god_ , are we really bringing this up?” Sam groaned. 

“Sam and I made out at your bachelor party.”

“What? Where was I?”

“Uh, asleep? You and Cas were 83 years old that night.”

“Awesome, now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t rememb—” 

“I told Sam that I find him and you attractive because you both have delicate features and refined characteristics usually associated with female faces, and he started to make out with me, and I didn’t stop because I was drunk and Sam has nice hair to grab.”

“Are you serious?” Sam asked in horror.

“Yeah, sorry, buddy.”

“To Sam’s hair making lesbians momentarily straight,” Jo said with an entire bottle of wine in her hand. 

“I didn’t—”

“It’s OK, Sam. I said you guys were attractive, I didn’t say I wanted to jump into bed with you.”

“Dean…bed.” Cas mumbled.

There was no send-off for Cas and Dean. They simply waved to the room and headed upstairs. It seemed silly knowing everyone would be staying in the seemingly limitless mansion that night and would spend the morning together. After a few more sloppy toasts, Gabriel showed up and pulled Sam away from his friends. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s cool. Any longer and I’d probably pass out. And I wanna be awake for you tonight,” Sam replied as he pulled Gabe up for a kiss.

“No, no, I mean—I’m _sorry._ Like actually, genuinely, really sorry. For…you know.”

God. Sam hadn’t thought about _that_ in…years. It had been so disgustingly horrible that he had wiped it from his memory.

“Oh. I know. I don’t—I forgave you a long time ago, Gabe.” 

“Yeah, but…it still needed to be said. I can’t—undo what I did.”

“You’re showing a god awful amount of maturity today, and I don’t really know what to do with it.”

“All right, forget it, let’s fuck.” Gabe turned and basically sprinted up the stairs, Sam bounding behind him to keep up.

“Just as beautiful as I remember you,” was all Gabriel said before making Sam come four times. To his credit, Sam then made Gabe come three or seven times.

Everybody ate breakfast together the next day (Sam and Gabriel were late and unapologetic about it because at least they weren’t as bad as Cas, who was still drunk) and spent hours saying their goodbyes. Sam had no idea how they managed it, but all of the living people took a shot of what tasted like seaweed and rusty nails, and then they all woke up in the kitchen of the bunker as if it had all just been a dream.

“Well,” Maggie stated awkwardly.

They all stood in silence, unsure of how to proceed. It was like they expected everybody else from the wedding to show up, too. There were spaces that should’ve been filled.

“I’ll see you guys at the restaurant after your trip,” Maggie continued as she hugged both Dean and Cas. “Sam, maybe one of these days you’ll find a live being to go out with and show up at my restaurant, too,” she added as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss Sam’s cheek.

Once everybody else was out of the bunker, too, Cas and Dean started packing for their honeymoon. Sam stared blankly at his computer screen and listened to the couple shout across the bunker at each other things like “I don’t know what happened to my red plaid shirt, Cas, but you’re just going to have to deal with me not having it,” “Do you even know how to match two goddamn socks when you do the laundry,” “I swear to _God_ , Dean, if you don’t find that fucking shirt I am not letting you bottom at all on this trip,” and “ _You_ were the last one to do the laundry, you colorblind piece of shit.”

When Dean and Cas finally left, Sam was unsure how to deal with the silence left behind. He didn’t want to think about the wedding. Or the reception. Or the night. Or the morning after. But of course that’s what he did anyway. He thought about all the things he didn’t say to Gabe, all the apologies he didn’t make to people who had died because of him, all the time he spent getting drunk instead of getting to know his mom, hell—he barely got to spend any time with Bobby at all. 

But. On the plus side. He got closure with the angel he never allowed himself to really have feelings for. He joked with Kevin and Jo and Ash and Pam and realized that they weren’t bitter toward him at all. He heard his mom say things to him she would’ve said when he was a kid and a teenager and a college student. He exchanged proper apologies with his father.

It was a beautiful wedding.

 

When Cas and Dean returned, the only real difference in their dynamic was the rings on their fingers. And they said “my husband this, my husband that” to any stranger they came in contact with.

Yeah, Sam could live with this.

Except. 

“I don’t know, man, it could be great.”

“Dean, I really think you should be more practical about this.”

It was one of those rare moments when Sam couldn’t help but eavesdrop because he recognized the weight of the conversation.

“Yeah but before we can be practical we have to at least talk about the idea of it.”

“You keep saying ‘we.’ So far only _you_ have shown interest in this matter.”

“C’mon, sweetheart, I know you’ve thought about it.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“So you’re not denying it? You’ve thought about it?”

Sam could hear Cas’ squinty glare.

“Cas. Seriously. At least try to see why I think this is a good idea.”

“You’re going to have to do a better job of convincing me then.” 

“We could hunt more irregularly. Hell, I could get a job as a mechanic or a construction worker and earn an honest living. You don’t need sleep, so it’s not like getting up in the middle of the night would be a big deal. We have plenty of extra room in the bunker, and we actually have friends who would be able to help us. We would be _so good_ at it, Cas. I mean, everyone makes fun of me already for acting like a dad.”

 What.

“It _would_ be pretty cute, wouldn’t it?” Cas admitted. 

“Yes! Seriously, please? It’s a long process anyway. Even if we started looking at adoption agencies tomorrow, it would probably be years before anything actually happened.”

Nope.

No.

Not dealing with this.

No way.

Nope.

Not going through this process.

No.

Sam moved in with Maggie and her girlfriend the next day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean's first dance was "Sons and Daughters" by Allman Brown.


	9. [Time Stamp]

“Cas! Ba-a-abe! Where are my pants?”

“Quit yelling, Dean, you know I can hear you at any volume! Just take a pair of my jeans!”

“You know I don’t fucking fit in your jeans, asshole!” 

“Yes you do!”

Dean scratches his head and reaches for a pair of Cas’ jeans. Other than ending right at his ankle, they fit. That’s new.

“What do you think, Luke? You think angel Daddy’s messing with me?”

Luke shakes his head vigorously and reaches his arms up for Dean to pick him up off the bed. He’s 2 years old and perfectly capable of walking and talking—he just chooses not to most of the time.

Dean’s halfway down the stairs before he hears a crash near the kitchen and a, “Raleigh! Raleigh, pick that up right _now._ You are going to behave today, so help me.”

“So should we sneak back upstairs and avoid this mess, buddy? Maybe take a nap or something?”

Luke shakes his head again, rocking his whole body on Dean’s hip. “Uncle Sam.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. We can’t really skip out on seeing Uncle Sammy today. Maybe we can just leave Raleigh and angel Daddy here then?”

Another enthusiastic head shake.

When Dean makes it to the kitchen, he’s bombarded by a screaming Raleigh and an impatient Castiel. He promptly passes Luke off and scoops up Raleigh mid-run.

“Where do you think you’re going, soldier?” Dean asks seriously.

“Battle with Daddy,” Raleigh answers with the same level of seriousness.

“Well I hate to tell you this, kid, but you’re probably not gonna win that one.” 

Raleigh screams and squirms in Dean’s arms to demonstrate how strongly he disagrees. 

“I know, I know. But you gotta believe me, dude, one time I saw angel Daddy smite _dozens_ of guys in like 10 seconds.”

“What’s smite mean?”

Dean looks at Cas like a deer caught in the headlights and says, “I’ll tell you when you’re older. All right, now when I set you down you’re going to behave, right? No more battle with Daddy?”

“Right,” Raleigh agrees with more squirming.

As soon as Dean sets him down, Raleigh runs full force across the room at Cas—who is still holding Luke on his hip. Cas sidesteps the attack and when Raleigh tries to jump on him, Cas picks him up by his ankle and holds him upside down in the air.

Dean never tires of seeing his angel holding both of their children in precarious positions that no human could manage.

“You are not going to win this battle, Raleigh,” Cas says grimly as he looks at his upside down son.

“All right, guys, I think we were supposed to be at Sam’s, well, an hour ago, so we should, you know.” Dean claps his hands and gestures toward the door. 

Cas tosses Raleigh onto his shoulder and starts walking toward Dean. “Lead the way, Dad,” he says with a small smile.

Dean catches Cas in a kiss before turning toward the door. “Hey, babe, why do I fit in your jeans?” 

“Because you’ve been chasing children around for two years and are now wasting away before my very eyes.”

“What? That’s not—” Dean quickly looks down at himself and grabs at his stomach, which is…definitely a lot flatter than it’s been since his 20s. “Oh.”

“I’m in the process of replacing your jeans—Raleigh, stop kicking me—which is why your pants are so often missing.”

“Here, let me take Luke.” Dean reaches his arms out and Cas deposits the tamer child into them.

Cas then is able to wrangle Raleigh with all of his strength amidst the child’s giggling and screaming. It’s a struggle when they get to the car, because they forgot to switch the car seats so they have to take the Mazda instead of the Impala which of course makes Luke cry because he loves the Impala as much as Dean does, so it’s several loud minutes of Raleigh still trying to fight Cas while Dean tries to soothe Luke, and by the time they’re actually _in_ the van, a couple of their neighbors have come outside to see if they need any help.

Parenting is hard.

The adoption process was the _easy_ part. It took just a year and a half after their wedding to bring home twins Luke and Raleigh Winchester. It was a lot of paperwork more than anything, but luckily Sam and Dean had saved a couple of lives of people who could help them out and bypass some of the red tape. 

When they held their sons in their arms for the first time, Cas and Dean didn’t even look at each other or speak for a solid five minutes. Then, finally, they had exchanged deliriously happy smiles and switched babies. 

That was the last moment of peace before pandemonium.

Sure, it’s nice that Cas is an angel and can make sure that the boys stay safe, that they’re healthy, and he has a lot more stamina to take care of them than Dean does (even though he requires sleep most days of the week now). But even so, Cas elects not to use his power liberally for several reasons, one of which being that it isn’t fair to whisk away dirty diapers when Dean still has to change them by hand and another being that discipline should be taught and not programmed.

The first year was pretty damn rough. Cas and Dean realized very quickly that the bunker was not even remotely a good place to raise children, so they solicited Sam to help them find a suitable house in the area. That took a couple months and a very angry few days of moving (they left boxes lying around still packed for a solid half a year before finally getting around to actually settling in). Dean found a job at an auto shop when the boys were three months old, and that brought in a whole new level of exhaustion and a whole new wave of arguments between Cas and Dean until the boys were six months old. Dean spent several nights sleeping in a Cas-less bed during that time. He doesn’t even remember what they fought about, just that it was loud and violent and luckily in the past. When the boys started talking and walking, Dean and Cas felt like they spent 90 percent of their lives running. Dean swears there was an entire week where he just forgot to eat. Whenever Sam came over, he’d get all puppy-eyed and ask if they were all right and if they needed help like a dozen and a half times.

They finally, _finally_ got the hang of it after the boys’ first birthday. They settled into a comfortable rhythm that was still exhausting at times, but at least it wasn’t killing them both.

After putting the boys to bed one night several months ago, they fell into their own bed and stared at each other for a second before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Remember when our biggest problem was sex?” Dean asked, flipping over on his back and locking his hands behind his head.

“Mmm,” Cas said pensively. Then after a beat, “When was the last time we even _had_ intercourse?”

Dean laughed out loud at that. “Dude, I have no idea. Since Raleigh said his first word at least. That was what, three or four months ago? Fuck. Cas, we really should have sex.”

“We really should.” Cas rolled over then and curled up against Dean’s body.

He was trying to be seductive, but then they both fell asleep within two minutes.

 

Now, on their way to Sam’s with two terrible 2’s in the backseat, Cas reaches over to the passenger seat and rests a hand on Dean’s thigh.

“Do you think Sam will have food?” Cas asks with his eyes on the road. 

“Man, I hope so. I’m sick of our leftovers.” 

“Maybe I can figure out how to use my grace to speed up the cooking process. I could start baking again.”

“You’re trying to fatten me up again, aren’t you?”

Cas squeezes Dean’s thigh and smiles smugly at the road.

“You already forced me to go gray, you’re not winning this one too.”

Cas moves his hand to Dean’s hair and says, “Like I said before, I am still willing to color your hair for you, Dean. I did it for almost two years without your knowledge.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I like how much you play with it now.” Dean closes his eyes and leans into Cas’ touch. “What are you gonna do when I’m really old?”

Raleigh throws one of Luke’s toys up between Cas and Dean then, and Luke screams while Raleigh laughs hysterically. Dean whips around and hands the toy back to Luke while chastising Raleigh about car manners and respecting other people’s property. They’re pulling into Sam’s by the time it’s all sorted out. 

Raleigh runs to the front door and starts banging as soon as they get out of the car, but Luke just reaches up for Dean’s hand so they can walk together. Before they start moving, though, Cas pulls Dean against his hip and whispers, “I’m going to fuck you senseless when you’re really old.”

“You’re gross, Cas.”

Cas smacks Dean’s ass in response and then the door swings open and Sam scoops up a giggling Raleigh. Even Luke breaks from Dean’s grasp and runs at his uncle, clinging to Sam’s leg when he gets there. 

“Hey, pilot!” Sam greets Raleigh as he lifts him above his head. “And Jedi,” he adds to Luke. “You guys are getting so big, soon enough you’ll be taller than me.” 

“Daddy say no way,” Raleigh responds. 

“Oh is that so? Which daddy said that?”

“Human Daddy!” 

“Figures. All right, you guys go play and let the grown-ups talk for a bit,” Sam says before setting Raleigh down and ruffling Luke’s hair. The boys then promptly race into the living room where Sam has a whole slew of toys set up.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean greets as he pulls his brother down for a hug.

“Hey Dean, you’re looking better than the last time I saw you.”

“What? Did Cas tell you to say that so that I’d quit complaining about my hair?”

Sam chuckles as the three make their way inside and take a seat at Sam’s kitchen counter. “You don’t look as tired as you did a couple weeks ago. And you don’t smell like Luke’s vomit. Want a beer?”

Cas and Dean exchange a look before Dean says, “We’re on a water-only diet right now. Cas thinks soda and alcohol make me incompetent as a parent.”

“That is not true, _honey_ ,” Cas says bitingly. “You simply have more energy and are generally less cranky without them.”

“Luke! Luke, don’t put that in your mouth. Please spit it out,” Dean calls to the living room.

Luke, as usual, stares at Dean for a second (a little too coincidentally like angel Daddy does) before obeying.

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to go watch them while you two catch up,” Cas says with a gentle hand on Dean’s back.

“You mean you’re going to go play with them?” Dean accuses.

“Yes.” 

Dean turns back to Sam once Cas has made his way over to the living room. “Last hunt go all right?” 

“Uh yeah, just a couple of shapeshifters out in California. Took Garth with me, cleared it up pretty quick. How are you and Cas doing?”

Dean smiles affectionately. “Awesome. Really. Maggie watched the kids a few nights ago so we could go out, and then we ended up getting home early and the three of us fell asleep watching a movie. It was nice.”

“God, you’d think you guys are a hundred years old. Well, I guess that analogy doesn’t really apply to Cas, but you know what I mean.”

“Hey, we’re still cool, all right? We still—do stuff.”

“Going to Chuck E. Cheese is not doing stuff, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’ve got a husband and two great kids and a stable job. Not to mention I’m in my fucking _forties_ now. Going to—”

“Language, Dean,” Cas interjects from the living room as he throws Raleigh in the air.

Dean gives Cas the finger over his shoulder as he continues, “I’m living the dream, Sammy. I got out. You should, too.”

“Yeah, and do what? Go to law school? Get married, have kids when I’m pushing middle age? It may have worked for you, but it won’t work for me.” Sam takes a long pull from his beer and avoids eye contact with Dean.

“But you’re good? You, uh, you’re all right hunting?”

Sam shakes his head and laughs. “I miss you, man. I don’t know, I just—I wish I got to spend more time with you guys. You know I love those kids to death, and you and Cas...” 

“I know. I know it’s not the same. But you gotta look at the big picture here, Sammy. We’re not dying every year trying to save the whole goddamn world. You and I aren’t grossly codependent anymore. Cas hasn’t been brainwashed in years. Hell, he hasn’t paid attention to angel radio since he got his grace back. God, Sammy, we have _normal problems._ ” 

“Yeah. Yeah, um, you’re—” 

The doorbell cuts Sam off, and Raleigh runs to answer it.

“Aunt Charlie!” he screeches after swinging the door open. 

Charlie lifts Raleigh onto her hip and greets, “Hey buddy, where’s your co-pilot?”

Raleigh points to the living room where Cas has picked up Luke and is walking back over to the kitchen. 

“Hey, sweetheart, how are you?” Dean asks as he pulls Charlie in for a one-armed hug. 

“Pretty good, old man. You and Cas getting any sleep these days?” 

“More than we used to, but still not enough.” 

“Hey, Charlie, glad you made it,” Sam cuts in with a kiss to Charlie’s forehead. “Please, have a seat, make yourself at home.”

“So what’s the deal? It smells like man pain in here,” Charlie says as she sits on a stool and adjusts Raleigh onto her lap.

“You know, Sam and Dean just being Sam and Dean,” Cas answers.

Dean rolls his eyes and smacks Cas on the back of the head. 

“Don’t hit, Daddy,” Luke scolds from where he’s perched on Cas’ hip. 

Everybody laughs at that, and then Dean takes Luke from Cas and blows a raspberry onto his stomach before settling him in his lap.

It’s a relaxing day when it’s all said and done. Sam makes dinner, and Dean eats more than usual (with Cas’ urging). Charlie and Sam get into a long discussion about some TV show they’re both into, so Cas and Dean take the opportunity to put a movie on for the twins while they nap together on the couch. When they wake up, it’s dark outside and Sam and Charlie are playing a very loud game with the twins in Sam’s guest bedroom upstairs. When Cas and Dean try to tell them they need to get home to put the boys to bed, Luke starts crying and Raleigh screams. Sam reminds Cas and Dean that he has accommodations for his nephews at his house for a reason. Realizing that means they have the night off, they call Maggie and end up going to a bar with her and Charlie while Sam takes care of the boys.

As soon as they close the door behind them when they get home later, Cas shoves Dean into the wall and kisses him fiercely.

“Oh hey, tiger, haven’t seen _you_ in a while,” Dean says with a smirk as he flattens himself against the wall and pulls Cas closer by his belt loop.

Cas kisses him again before saying, “I love you. I don’t know if I’ve said that enough lately. I love you, and I can’t believe how good of a husband and father you are. I mean it.”

Dean ducks his chin to hide his smile. “Nice pillow talk, Cas.”

“I love that I can still make you uncomfortable,” Cas answers with a chuckle. “Come on, I’m going to suck you off and then fuck you.”

“ _That’s_ more like it.”

 

Parenting is hard. Dean wishes he could help Sam more. Things aren’t perfect.

But they're pretty damn close. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally wrote a time stamp. Sorry the tone is different than the rest of the fic; I wanted to reflect that the passage of time has made these characters a little more serious about their lives. Also, I thought about giving Sam a happier ending, but I didn't want to introduce a new character and a new ship, and I truly believe that Sam canonically would simply settle down but continue to hunt, and I think he'd be pretty content with that.
> 
> Yes, Luke is named after Luke Skywalker from Star Wars, and Raleigh is named after Raleigh Becket from Pacific Rim. Sue me.
> 
> I'm [deancasheadcanons](http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, and [this is my website.](https://maddmadeshop.com/)


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